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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16074-8.txt b/16074-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce6d5a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/16074-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15297 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Definite Object, by Jeffery Farnol + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Definite Object + A Romance of New York + + +Author: Jeffery Farnol + + + +Release Date: June 15, 2005 [eBook #16074] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFINITE OBJECT*** + + +E-text prepared by David Kline, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +THE DEFINITE OBJECT + +A Romance of New York + +by + +JEFFERY FARNOL + +Author of The Broad Highway, The Amateur Gentleman, The Honourable +Mr. Tawnish, Beltane the Smith + +1917 + + + + + + + +CHAPTER + + I Which Describes, among Other Things, a Pair of Whiskers + II Of a Mournful Millionaire Who Lacked an Object + III How Geoffrey Ravenslee Went Seeking an Object + IV Telling How He Came to Hell's Kitchen at Peep o' Day + V How Mrs. Trapes Acquired a New Lodger, Despite her Elbows + VI How Spike Initiated Mr. Ravenslee into the Gentle Art of Shopping + VII Concerning Ankles, Stairs, and Neighbourliness + VIII Of Candies and Confidences + IX Which Recounts the End of an Episode + X Tells How Mr. Ravenslee Went into Trade + XI Antagonism is Born and War Declared + XII Containing Some Description of a Supper Party + XIII Wherein may be Found Some Particulars of the Beautiful City of + Perhaps + XIV Of a Text, a Letter, and a Song + XV Which Introduces Joe and the Old Un + XVI Of the First and Second Persons, Singular Number + XVII How Geoffrey Ravenslee Made a Deal in Real Estate + XVIII How Spike Hearkened to Poisonous Suggestion and Soapy Began to + Wonder + XIX In which the Poison Begins to Work + XX Of an Expedition by Night + XXI How M'Ginnis Threatened and--Went + XXII Tells of an Early Morning Visit and a Warning + XXIII Chiefly Concerning a Letter + XXIV How the Old Un and Certain Others had Tea + XXV How Spike Made a Choice and a Promise + XXVI Which Makes Further Mention of a Ring + XXVII Mrs. Trapes Upon the Millennium + XXVIII Which should have Related Details of a Wedding + XXIX In which Hermione Makes a Fateful Decision + XXX How Geoffrey Ravenslee Departed from Hell's Kitchen + XXXI In which Soapy Takes a Hand + XXXII Of Harmony and Discord + XXXIII Of Tragedy + XXXIV Of Remorse + XXXV How Geoffrey Ravenslee Came Out of the Dark + XXXVI Concerning a Clew + XXXVII The Woes of Mr. Brimberly +XXXVIII In which Soapy Takes upon Himself a New Role + XXXIX The Old Un Advises and Ravenslee Acts + XL Concerning a Handful of Pebbles + XLI Of a Packet of Letters + XLII Tells How Ravenslee Broke his Word and Why + XLIII How Spike Got Even + XLIV Retribution + XLV Of the Old Un and Fate + XLVI In which Geoffrey Ravenslee Obtains his Object + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WHICH DESCRIBES, AMONG OTHER THINGS, A PAIR OF WHISKERS + + +In the writing of books, as all the world knows, two things are above +all other things essential--the one is to know exactly when and where to +leave off, and the other to be equally certain when and where to begin. + +Now this book, naturally enough, begins with Mr. Brimberly's whiskers; +begins at that moment when he coughed and pulled down his waistcoat for +the first time. And yet (since action is as necessary to the success of +a book as to life itself) it should perhaps begin more properly at the +psychological moment when Mr. Brimberly coughed and pulled down the +garment aforesaid for the third time, since it is then that the real +action of this story commences. + +Be that as it may, it is beyond all question that nowhere in this wide +world could there possibly be found just such another pair of whiskers +as those which adorned the plump cheeks of Mr. Brimberly; without them +he might have been only an ordinary man, but, possessing them, he was +the very incarnation of all that a butler could possibly be. + +And what whiskers these were! So soft, so fleecy, so purely white, that +at times they almost seemed like the wings of cherubim, striving to soar +away and bear Mr. Brimberly into a higher and purer sphere. Again, what +Protean whiskers were these, whose fleecy pomposity could overawe the +most superior young footmen and reduce page-boys, tradesmen, and the +lower orders generally, to a state of perspiring humility; to his +equals how calmly aloof, how blandly dignified; and to those a misguided +fate had set above him, how demurely deferential, how obligingly +obsequious! Indeed, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers were all things to all men, +and therein lay their potency. + +Mr. Brimberly then, pompous, affable, and most sedate, having motioned +his visitor into his master's favourite chair, set down the tray of +decanters and glasses upon the piano, coughed, and pulled down his +waistcoat; and Mr. Brimberly did it all with that air of portentous +dignity and leisurely solemnity which, together with his whiskers, made +him the personality he was. + +"And you're still valeting for Barberton, are you, Mr. Stevens?" he +blandly enquired. + +"I've been with his lordship six months, now," nodded Mr. Stevens. + +"Ah!" said Mr. Brimberly, opening a certain carved cabinet and reaching +thence a box of his master's choicest Havanas, "six months, indeed! And +'ow is Barberton? I hacted in the capacity of his confidential valet a +good many years ago, as I told you, and we always got on very well +together, very well, indeed. 'ow is Barberton?" + +"Oh, 'e 'd be right enough if it warn't for 'is gout which gets 'im in +the big toe now and then, and 'is duns and creditors and sich-like low +fellers, as gets 'im everywhere and constant! 'E'll never be quite +'imself until 'e marries money--and plenty of it!" + +"A American hair-ess!" nodded Mr. Brimberly. "Pre-cisely! I very nearly +married 'im to a rich widder ten years ago. 'E'd 'ave been settled for +life if 'e 'd took my advice! But Barberton was always inclined to be a +little 'eadstrong. The widder in question 'appened to be a trifle +par-say, I'll admit, also it was 'inted that one of 'er--lower limbs was +cork. But then, 'er money, sir--'er jools!" Mr. Brimberly raised eyes +and hands and shook his head until his whiskers quivered in a very +ecstasy. + +"But a wooden leg--" began Mr. Stevens dubiously. + +"I said 'limb', sir!" said Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers distinctly +agitated, "a cork limb, sir! And Lord bless me, a cork limb ain't to +be sniffed at contemptuous when it brings haffluence with it, sir! At +least, my sentiments leans that way." + +"Oh--ditto, certainly, sir! I'd take haffluence to my 'eart if she came +with both le--both of 'em cork, if it meant haffluence like this!" Mr. +Stevens let his pale, prominent eyes wander slowly around the luxuriant +splendour of the room. "My eye!" he exclaimed, "it's easy to see as your +governor don't have to bother about marrying money, cork limbs or +otherwise! Very rich, ain't 'e, Mr. Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly set down the decanter he chanced to be holding, and having +caressed each fluffy whisker, smiled. + +"I think, sir," said he gently, "y-es, I think we may answer 'yes' to +your latter question. I think we may tell you and admit 'ole-'earted and +frank, sir, that the Ravenslee fortune is fab'lous, sir, stoopendious +and himmense!" + +"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and his pale eyes, much wider, now +wandered up from the Persian rug beneath his boots to the elaborately +carved ceiling above his head. "My aunt!" he murmured. + +"Oh, I think we're fairly comfortable 'ere, sir," nodded Mr. Brimberly +complacently, "yes, fairly comfortable, I think." + +"Comfortable!" ejaculated the awe-struck Mr. Stevens, "I should say so! +My word!" + +"Yes," pursued Mr. Brimberly, "comfortable, and I ventur' to think, +tasteful, sir, for I'll admit young Ravenslee--though a millionaire and +young--'as taste. Observe this costly bricky-brack! Oh, yes, young Har +is a man of taste indoobitably, I think you must admit." + +"Very much so indeed, sir!" answered Mr. Stevens with his pallid glance +on the array of bottles. "'Three Star,' I think, Mr. Brimberly?" + +"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly in gentle reproach, "you 'ere be'old Cognac +brandy as couldn't be acquired for twenty-five dollars the bottle! Then +'ere we 'ave jubilee port, a rare old sherry, and whisky. Now what shall +we make it? You, being like myself, a Englishman in this 'ere land of +eagles, spread and otherwise, suppose we make it a B and a Hess?" + +"By all means!" nodded Mr. Stevens. + +"I was meditating," said Mr. Brimberly, busied with the bottles and +glasses, "I was cogitating calling hup Mr. Jenkins, the Stanways' butler +across the way. The Stanways is common people, parvynoo, Mr. Stevens, +parvynoo, but Mr. Jenkins is very superior and plays the banjer very +affecting. Our 'ousekeeper and the maids is gone to bed, and I've give +our footmen leave of habsence--I thought we might 'ave a nice, quiet +musical hour or so. You perform on the piano-forty, I believe, sir?" + +"Only very occasional!" Mr. Stevens admitted. "But," and here his pale +eyes glanced toward the door, "do I understand as he is out for the +night?" + +"Sir," said Mr. Brimberly ponderously, "what ''e' might you be pleased +to mean?" + +"I was merely allooding to--to your governor, sir." + +Mr. Brimberly glanced at his guest, set down the glass he was in the act +of filling and--pulled down his waistcoat for the second time. + +"Sir," said he, and his cherubic whiskers seemed positively to quiver, +"I presoom--I say, I presoom you are referring to--Young Har?" + +"I meant Mr. Ravenslee." + +"Then may I beg that you'll allood to him 'enceforth as Young Har? This +is Young Har's own room, sir. These is Young Har's own picters, sir. +When Young Har is absent, I generally sit 'ere with me cigar and observe +said picters. I'm fond of hart, sir; I find hart soothing and restful. +The picters surrounding of you are all painted by Young Har's very own +'and--subjeks various. Number one--a windmill very much out o' repair, +but that's hart, sir. Number two--a lady dressed in what I might term +dish-a-bell, sir, and there isn't much of it, but that's hart again. +Number three--a sunset. Number four--moonlight; 'e didn't get the moon +in the picter but the light's there and that's the great thing--effect, +sir, effect! Of course, being only studies, they don't look +finished--which is the most hartisticest part about 'em! But, lord! +Young Har never finishes anything--too tired! 'Ang me, sir, if I don't +think 'e were born tired! But then, 'oo ever knew a haristocrat as +wasn't?" + +"But," demurred Mr. Stevens, staring down into his empty glass, "I +thought 'e was a American, your--Young Har?" + +"Why, 'e is and 'e ain't, sir. His father was only a American, I'll +confess, but his mother was blue blood, every drop guaranteed, sir, and +as truly English as--as I am!" + +"And is 'e the Mr. Ravenslee as is the sportsman? Goes in for boxing, +don't 'e? Very much fancied as a heavyweight, ain't 'e? My governor's +seen him box and says 'e's a perfect snorter, by Jove!" + +Mr. Brimberly sighed, and soothed a slightly agitated whisker. + +"Why, yes," he admitted, "I'm afraid 'e does box--but only as a +ammitoor, Mr. Stevens, strickly as a ammitoor, understand!" + +"And he's out making a night of it, is 'e?" enquired Mr. Stevens, +leaning back luxuriously and stretching his legs. "Bit of a rip, ain't +'e?" + +"A--wot, sir?" enquired Mr. Brimberly with raised brows. + +"Well, very wild, ain't he--drinks, gambles, and hetceteras, don't he?" + +"Why, as to that, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, dexterously performing +on the syphon, "I should answer you, drink 'e may, gamble 'e do, +hetceteras I won't answer for, 'im being the very hacme of +respectability though 'e is a millionaire and young." + +"And when might you expect 'im back?" + +"Why, there's no telling, Mr. Stevens." + +"Eh?" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and sat up very suddenly. + +"'Is movements, sir, is quite--ah--quite metehoric!" + +"My eye!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, gulping his brandy and soda rather +hastily. + +"Metehoric is the only word for it, sir!" pursued Mr. Brimberly with a +slow nod. "'E may drop in on me at any moment, sir!" + +"Why, then," said his guest, rising, "p'r'aps I'd better be moving?" + +"On the other 'and," pursued Mr. Brimberly, smiling and caressing his +left whisker, "'e may be on 'is way to Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor at +this pre-cise moment--'e is that metehoric, lord! These millionaires is +much of a muchness, sir, 'ere to-day, gone to-morrer. Noo York this +week, London or Paris the next. Young Har is always upsetting my plans, +'e is, and that's a fact, sir! Me being a nat'rally quiet, reasonable, +and law-abiding character, I objects to youthful millionaires on +principle, Mr. Stevens, on principle!" + +"Ditto!" nodded Mr. Stevens, his glance wandering uneasily to the door +again, "ditto with all my 'eart, sir. If it's all the same to you, I +think p'r'aps I'd better be hopping--you know--" + +"Oh, don't you worry about Young Har; 'e won't bother us to-night; 'e's +off Long Island way to try his newest 'igh-power racing car--'e's +driving in the Vanderbilt Cup Race next month. To-night 'e expects to do +eighty miles or so, and 'opes to sleep at one of 'is clubs. I say 'e +'opes an' expects so to do!" + +"Yes," nodded Mr. Stevens, "certainly, but what do you mean?" + +"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly, "if you'd been forced by stern dooty to sit +be'ind Young Har in a fast automobile as I 'ave, you'd know what I mean. +Reckless? Speed? Well, there!" and Mr. Brimberly lifted hands and eyes +and shook his head until his whiskers vibrated with horror. + +"Then you're pretty sure," said Mr. Stevens, settling luxurious boots +upon a cushioned chair, "you're pretty sure he won't come bobbing up +when least expected?" + +"Pretty sure!" nodded Mr. Brimberly. "You see, this nooest car is the +very latest thing in racing cars--cost a fortune, consequently it's +bound to break down--these here expensive cars always do, believe me!" + +"Why, then," said Mr. Stevens, helping himself to one of Mr. Brimberly's +master's cigars, "I say let joy and 'armony be unconfined! How about +Jenkins and 'is banjer?" + +"I'll call 'im up immediate!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, rising. "Mr. Jenkins +is a true hartist, equally facetious and soulful, sir!" + +So saying, Mr. Brimberly arose and crossed toward the telephone. But +scarcely had he taken three steps when he paused suddenly and stood +rigid and motionless, his staring gaze fixed upon the nearest window; +for from the shadowy world beyond came a sound, faint as yet and far +away, but a sound there was no mistaking--the dismal tooting of an +automobile horn. + +"'Eavens an' earth!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, and crossing to the window +he peered out. Once again the horn was heard, but very much nearer now, +and louder, whereupon Mr. Brimberly turned, almost hastily, and his +visitor rose hurriedly. + +"It's very annoying, Mr. Stevens," said he, "but can I trouble you +to--to step--er--down--stairs--_with_ the glasses? It's 'ighly +mortifying, but may I ask you to--er--step a little lively, Mr. +Stevens?" + +Without a word, Mr. Stevens caught up the tray from the piano and glided +away on his toe-points; whereupon Mr. Brimberly (being alone) became +astonishingly agile and nimble all at once, diving down to straighten a +rug here and there, rearranging chairs and tables; he even opened the +window and hurled two half-smoked cigars far out into the night; and his +eye was as calm, his brow as placid, his cheek as rosy as ever, only his +whiskers--those snowy, telltale whiskers, quivered spasmodically, very +much as though endeavouring to do the manifestly impossible and flutter +away with Mr. Brimberly altogether; yes, it was all in his whiskers. + +Thus did Mr. Brimberly bustle softly to and fro until he paused, all at +once, arrested by the sound of a slow, firm step near by. Then Mr. +Brimberly coughed, smoothed his winglike whiskers, and--pulled down his +waistcoat for the third time. And lo! even as he did so, the door +opened, and the hero of this history stood upon the threshold. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +OF A MOURNFUL MILLIONAIRE WHO LACKED AN OBJECT + + +Geoffrey Ravenslee was tall and pale and very languid, so languid indeed +that the automobile coat he bore across his arm slipped to the floor ere +Mr. Brimberly could take it, after which he shed his cap and goggles and +dropped them, drew off his gauntlets and dropped them and, crossing to +his favourite lounge chair, dropped himself into it, and lay there +staring into the fire. + +"Ah, Brimberly," he sighed gently, "making a night of it?" + +"Why, sir," bowed his butler, "indeed, sir--to tell the truth, sir--" + +"You needn't, Brimberly. Excellent cigars you smoke--judging from the +smell. May I have one?" + +"Sir," said Brimberly, his whiskers slightly agitated, "cigars, sir?" + +"In the cabinet, I think," and Mr. Ravenslee motioned feebly with one +white hand towards the tall, carved cabinet in an adjacent corner. + +Mr. Brimberly coughed softly behind plump fingers. + +"The--the key, sir?" he suggested. + +"Oh, not at all necessary, Brimberly; the lock is faulty, you know." + +"Sir?" said Brimberly, soothing a twitching whisker. + +"If you are familiar with the life of the Fourteenth Louis, Brimberly, +you will remember that the Grand Monarch hated to be kept waiting--so do +I. A cigar--in the cabinet yonder." + +With his whiskers in a high state of agitation, Mr. Brimberly laid by +the garments he held clutched in one arm and coming to the cabinet, +opened it, and taking thence a box of cigars, very much at random, came +back, carrying it rather as though it were a box of highly dangerous +explosives, and setting it at his master's elbow, struck a match. + +As Mr. Brimberly watched his master select and light his cigar, it +chanced that Young R. raised his eyes and looked at him, and to be sure +those eyes were surprisingly piercing and quick for one so very languid. +Indeed, Mr. Brimberly seemed to think so, for he coughed again, faint +and discreetly, behind his hand, while his whiskers quivered slightly, +though perceptibly. + +"You're 'ome quite--quite unexpected, sir!" + +"Brimberly, I'm afraid I am, but I hope I don't intrude?" + +"Intrude, sir!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Oh, very facetious, sir, very +facetious indeed!" and he laughed, deferentially and soft. + +"I blew the horn, but I see he left his hat behind him!" sighed Young +R., nodding languidly toward the headgear of Mr. Stevens, which had +fallen beneath a chair and thus escaped notice. + +"Why, I--indeed, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, stooping to make a fierce +clutch at it, "I took the liberty of showing a friend of mine your--your +picters, sir--no offence, I 'ope, sir?" + +"Friend?" murmured his master. + +"Name of Stevens, sir, valet to Lord Barberton--a most sooperior person +indeed, sir!" + +"Barberton? I don't agree with you, Brimberly." + +"Stevens, sir!" + +"Ah! And you showed him my--pictures, did you?" + +"Yes, sir, I did take that liberty--no offence, sir, I--" + +"Hum! Did he like 'em?" + +"Like them, sir! 'E were fair overpowered, sir! Brandy and soda, sir?" + +"Thanks! Did he like that, too?" + +"Why, sir--I--indeed--" + +"Oh, never mind--to-night is an occasion, anyway--just a splash of soda! +Yes, Brimberly, when the clocks strike midnight I shall be thirty-five +years old--" + +"Indeed, sir!" exclaimed Brimberly, clasping his plump hands softly and +bowing, "then allow me to wish you many, many 'appy returns, sir, with +continued 'ealth, wealth, and all 'appiness, sir!" + +"Happiness?" repeated Young R., and smiled quite bitterly, as only the +truly young can smile. "Happiness!" said he again, "thank you, +Brimberly--now take your friend his hat, and have the extreme goodness +to make up the fire for me. I love a fire, as you know, but especially +when I am mournful. And pray--hurry, Brimberly!" + +Forthwith Mr. Brimberly bowed and bustled out, but very soon bustled +in again; and now, as he stooped, menial-like, to ply the coal tongs, +though his domelike brow preserved all its wonted serenity, no words +could possibly express all the mute rebellion of those eloquent +whiskers. + +"Hanything more, sir?" he enquired, as he rose from his knees. + +"Why, yes," said Young R., glancing up at him, and beneath the quizzical +look in those sleepy grey eyes, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers wilted +slightly. "You're getting a trifle too--er--portly to hop round on your +knees, aren't you, Brimberly? Pray sit down and talk to me." + +Mr. Brimberly bowed and took a chair, sitting very upright and attentive +while his master frowned into the fire. + +"Thirty-five is a ripe age, Brimberly!" said he at last; "a man should +have made something of his life--at thirty-five!" + +"Certingly, sir!" + +"And I'm getting quite into the sere and yellow leaf, am I not, +Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly raised a plump, protesting hand. + +"'Ardly that, sir, 'ardly that!" said he, "we are hall of us getting +on, of course--" + +"Where to, Brimberly? On where, Brimberly--on what?" + +"Why, sir, since you ask me, I should answer--begging your +parding--'eavens knows, sir!" + +"Precisely! Anyway, I'm going there fast." + +"Where, sir?" + +"Heaven knows, Brimberly." + +"Ah--er--certingly, sir!" + +"Now, Brimberly, as a hard-headed, matter-of-fact, common-sense being, +what would you suggest for a poor devil who is sick and tired of +everything and most of all--of himself?" + +"Why, sir, I should prescribe for that man change of hair, sir--travel, +sir. I should suggest to that man Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor, or both, +sir. There's your noo yacht a-laying in the river, sir--" + +His master leant his square chin upon his square fist and still frowning +at the fire, gently shook his head. + +"My good Brimberly," he sighed, "haven't I travelled in most parts of +the world?" + +"Why, yes, sir, you've travelled, sir, very much so indeed, sir--you've +shot lions and tigers and a helephant or so, and exchanged sentiments +with raging 'eathen--as rage in nothing but a string o' beads--but what +about your noomerous possessions in Europe, sir?" + +"Ah, yes," nodded Young R., "I do possess some shanties and things over +there, don't I, Brimberly?" + +"Shanties, sir!" Mr. Brimberly blinked, and his whiskers bristled +in horrified reproof. "Shanties!--Oh, dear me, sir!" he murmured. +"Shanties--your magnificent town mansion situate in Saint James's +Square, London, as your respected father hacquired from a royal dook, +sir! Shanties!--your costly and helegant res-eye-dence in Park Lane, +sir!" + +"Hum!" said Young R. moodily. + +"Then, in Scotland, sir, we 'ave your castle of Drumlochie, sir--rocks, +turrets, battlements, 'ighly grim and romantic, sir!" + +"Ha!" sighed his young master, frowning at his cigar. + +"Next, sir,--in Italy we find your ancient Roman villa, sir--halabaster +pillows and columns, sir--very historical though a trifle wore with wars +and centuries of centoorians, sir, wherefore I would humbly suggest a +coat or two of paint, sir, applied beneath your very own eye, sir--" + +"No, Brimberly," murmured Young R., "paint might have attractions--Italy, +none!" + +"Certingly not, sir, cer-tingly not! Which brings us to your schloss in +Germany, sir--" + +"Nor Germany! Lord, Brimberly, are there many more?" + +"Ho, yes, sir, plenty!" nodded Mr, Brimberly, "your late honoured and +respected father, sir, were a rare 'and at buying palaces, sir; 'e +collected 'em, as you might say, like some folks collects postage +starmps, sir!" + +"And a collection of the one is about as useless as a collection of the +other, Brimberly!" + +"Why, true, sir, one man can't live in a dozen places all at once, but +why not work round 'em in turn, beginning, say, at your imposing +Venetian palazzo--canals, sir, gondoleers--picturesque though dampish? +Or your shally in the Tyro-leen Halps, sir, or--" + +"Brimberly, have the goodness to--er--shut up!" + +"Certingly, sir." + +"To-day is my birthday, Brimberly, and to-night I've reached a kind of +'jumping off' place in my life, and--between you and me--I'm seriously +thinking of--er--jumping off!" + +"I crave parding, sir?" + +"I'm thirty-five years old," continued Young R., his frown growing +blacker, "and I've never done anything really worth while in all my +useless life! Have the goodness to look at me, will you?" + +"With pleasure, sir!" + +"Well, what do I look like?" + +"The very hacme of a gentleman, sir!" + +"Kind of you, Brimberly, but I know myself for an absolutely useless +thing--a purposeless, ambitionless wretch, drifting on to God knows +what. I'm a hopeless wreck, a moral derelict, and it has only occurred +to me to-night--but"--and here the speaker paused to flick the ash from +his cigar--"I fear I'm boring you?" + +"No, sir--ho, no, not at all, indeed, sir!" + +"You're very kind, Brimberly--light a cigarette! Ah, no, pardon me, you +prefer my cigars, I know." + +"Why--why, sir--" stammered Mr. Brimberly, laying a soothing hand upon +his twitching whisker, "indeed, I--I--" + +"Oh--help yourself, pray!" + +Hereupon Mr. Brimberly took a cigar very much at random, and, while +Young R. watched with lazy interest, proceeded to cut it--though with +singularly clumsy fingers. + +"A light, Mr. Brimberly--allow me!" + +So Ravenslee held the light while Mr. Brimberly puffed his cigar to a +glow, though to be sure he coughed once and choked, as he met Young R.'s +calm grey eye. + +"Now," pursued his master, "if you're quite comfortable, Mr. Brimberly, +perhaps you'll be good enough to--er--hearken further to my tale of +woe?" + +Mr. Brimberly choked again and recovering, smoothed his writhing +whiskers and murmured: "It would be a honour!" + +"First, then, Brimberly, have you ever hated yourself--I mean, despised +yourself so utterly and thoroughly that the bare idea of your existence +makes you angry and indignant?" + +"Why--no, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, staring, "I can't say as I 'ave, +sir." + +"No," said his master with another keen glance, "and I don't suppose you +ever will!" Now here again, perhaps because of the look or something in +Young R.'s tone, Mr. Brimberly took occasion to emit a small, apologetic +cough. + +"You have never felt yourself to be a--cumberer of the earth, Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly, having thought the matter over, decided that he had not. + +"You are not given to introspection, Brimberly?" + +"Intro--ahem! No, sir, not precisely--'ardly that, sir, and then only +very occasional, sir!" + +"Then you've never got on to yourself--got wise to yourself--seen +yourself as you really are?" + +Mr. Brimberly goggled and groped for his whisker. + +"I mean," pursued his master, "you have never seen all your secret +weaknesses and petty meannesses stripped stark naked, have you?" + +"N-naked, sir!" faltered Mr. Brimberly, "very distressing indeed, +sir--oh, dear me!" + +"It's a devilish unpleasant thing," continued Young R., scowling at the +fire again, "yes, it's a devilish unpleasant thing to go serenely on our +flowery way, pitying and condemning the sins and follies of others and +sublimely unconscious of our own until one day--ah, yes--one day we meet +Ourselves face to face and see beneath all our pitiful shams and +hypocrisies and know ourselves at last for what we really are--behold +the decay of faculties, the degeneration of intellect bred of sloth and +inanition and know ourselves at last--for exactly what we are!" + +Mr. Brimberly stared at the preoccupation of his master's scowling brow +and grim-set mouth, and, clutching a soft handful of whisker, murmured: +"Certingly, sir!" + +"When I was a boy," continued Ravenslee absently, "I used to dream of +the wonderful things I would do when I was a man--by the way, you're +quite sure I'm not boring you--?" + +"No, sir--certingly not, sir--indeed, sir!" + +"Take another cigar, Brimberly--oh, put it in your pocket, it will do +to--er--to add to your collection! But, as I was saying, as a boy I was +full of a godlike ambition--but, as I grew up, ambition and all the +noble things it leads to, sickened and died--died of a surfeit of +dollars! And to-day I am thirty-five and feel that I can't--that I never +shall--do anything worth while--" + +"But, sir," exclaimed Mr. Brimberly with a bland and reassuring smile, +"you are one as don't have to do nothing--you're rich!" + +Mr. Ravenslee started. + +"Rich!" he cried, and turning, he glanced at Mr. Brimberly, and his +square chin looked so very square and his grey eyes so very piercing +that Mr. Brimberly, loosing his whisker, coughed again and shifted his +gaze to the Persian rug beneath his feet; yet when Young R. spoke again, +his voice was very soft and sleepy. + +"Rich!" he repeated, "yes, that's just the unspeakable hell of it--it's +money that has crippled all endeavours and made me what I am! Rich? I'm +so rich that my friends are all acquaintances--so rich that I might buy +anything in the world except what I most desire--so rich that I am tired +of life, the world, and everything in the world, and have been seriously +considering a--er--a radical change. It is a comfort to know that we may +all of us find oblivion when we so desire." + +"Oblivion!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, mouthing the word sonorously, +"oblivion, sir, certingly--my own sentiments exactly, sir--for, though +not being a marrying man myself, sir, I regard it with a truly reverent +heye and 'umbly suggest that for you such a oblivious change would be--" + +"Brimberly," said Young R., turning to stare in lazy wonder, "where in +the world are you getting to now?" + +Mr. Brimberly coughed and touched a whisker with dubious finger. + +"Wasn't you allooding to--hem!--to matrimony, sir?" + +"Matrimony! Lord, no! Hardly so desperate a course as that, Brimberly. I +was considering the advisability of--er--this!" And opening a drawer in +the escritoire, Young R. held up a revolver, whereat Mr. Brimberly's +whiskers showed immediate signs of extreme agitation, and he started to +his feet. + +"Mr. Ravenslee, sir--for the love o' Gawd!" he exclaimed, "if it's a +choice between the two--try matrimony first, it's so much--so much +wholesomer, sir!" + +"Is it, Brimberly? Let me see, there are about five hundred highly +dignified matrons in this--er--great city, wholly eager and anxious +to wed their daughters to my dollars (and incidentally myself) even +if I were the vilest knave or most pitiful piece of doddering +antiquity--faugh! Let's hear no more of matrimony." + +"Certingly not, sir!" bowed Mr. Brimberly. + +"And I'm neither mad, Brimberly, nor drunk, only--speaking +colloquially--I'm 'on to' myself at last. If my father had only left me +fewer millions, I might have been quite a hard-working, useful member of +society, for there's good in me, Brimberly. I am occasionally aware of +quite noble impulses, but they need some object to bring 'em out. An +object--hum!" Here Mr. Ravenslee put away the revolver. "An object to +work for, live for, be worthy of!" Here he fell to frowning into the +fire again and stared thus so long that at last Mr. Brimberly felt +impelled to say: + +"A hobject, of course, sir! A hobject--certingly, sir!" But here he +started and turned to stare toward the windows as from the darkness +beyond two voices were uplifted in song; two voices these which sang the +same tune and words but in two different keys, uncertain voices, now +shooting up into heights, now dropping into unplumbable deeps, two shaky +voices whose inconsequent quaverings suggested four legs in much the +same condition. + +"Brimberly," sighed his master, "what doleful wretches have we here?" + +"Why, sir, I--I rather fancy it's William and James--the footmen, sir," +answered Mr. Brimberly between bristling whiskers. "Hexcuse me, +sir--I'll go and speak to 'em, sir--" + +"Oh, pray don't trouble yourself, Mr. Brimberly; sit down and hearken! +These sad sounds are inspired by deep potations--beer, I fancy. Be +seated, Mr. Brimberly." + +Mr. Brimberly obeyed, and being much agitated dropped his cigar and +grovelled for it, and it was to be noted thereafter that as the singers +drew nearer, he shuffled on his chair with whiskers violently a-twitch, +while his eyes goggled more and his domelike brow grew ever moister. But +on came the singing footmen and passed full-tongued, wailing out each +word with due effect, thus: + +"--my sweet 'eart's--me mother +The best--the dearest--of--'em all." + +"Hum!" murmured Young R., "I admire the sentiment, Brimberly, but the +execution leaves something to be desired, perhaps--" + +"If you'll only let me go out to 'em, sir!" groaned Mr. Brimberly, +mopping himself with a very large, exceeding white handkerchief, "if you +honly will, sir!" + +"No, Brimberly, no--it would only distress you, besides--hark! their +song is ended, and rather abruptly--I rather fancy they have fallen down +the terrace steps." + +"And I 'opes," murmured Mr. Brimberly fervently, "I do 'ope as they've +broke their necks!" + +"Of course I ought to have gone out and switched on the lights for +them," sighed Young R, "but then, you see, I thought they were safe in +bed, Brimberly!" + +"Why, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, mopping furiously, "I--I ventured to +give 'em a hour's leave of habsence, sir; I ventured so to do, sir, +because, sir--" + +"Because you are of rather a venturesome nature, aren't you, Brimberly?" + +"No offence, sir, I 'ope?" + +"None at all, Mr. Brimberly--pray calm yourself and--er--take a little +brandy." + +"Sir?" + +"Your glass is under the chair yonder, or is it your friend's?" + +Mr. Brimberly goggled toward Mr. Stevens' betraying glass, picked it +up, and sat staring at it in vague and dreamy fashion until, rousing at +his master's second bidding, he proceeded to mix brandy and soda, his +gaze still profoundly abstracted and his whiskers drooping with an +abnormal meekness. + +At this juncture a knock sounded at the door, and a chauffeur appeared, +looking very smart in his elegant livery; a thick-set man, mightily deep +of chest, whose wide shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and whose +long, gorilla-like arms ended in two powerful hands; his jaw was +squarely huge, his nose broad and thick, but beneath his beetling brows +blinked two of the mildest blue eyes in the world. + +"What is it, Joe?" + +"And what time will ye be wantin' the car in the mornin', sir?" he +enquired. + +"The morning, Joe? Who can say what may happen between now and then?" + +"Shall I have her round at eleven, sir, or--" + +"Eleven will do as well as any other time--let it go at that." + +"You was to see your broker, Mr. Anderson, in the morning over them +steamship shares, sir." + +"Shares, Joe, are a vanity; all is vanity--they weary me. Mr. Brimberly +yawns, and you look sleepy--good night, Joe; pleasant dreams." + +"Good night, sir!" and touching his right eyebrow, Joe went out, closing +the door behind him. + +"And now," said Mr. Ravenslee, puffing languidly at his cigar, +"referring to the necessary object, there is a chance that it may be +found--even yet, Mr. Brimberly!" + +"Object, sir," murmured Mr. Brimberly, "found, sir--to be sure, sir." + +"Yes; I intend you shall find it for me, Brimberly." + +Mr. Brimberly's abstraction gave place to sudden amaze. + +"Find it--wot, me, sir? Hexcuse me, sir, but did you say--" Mr. +Brimberly actually gaped! + +"You, Brimberly, of course!" + +"But--but wot kind of a hobject--and where, sir?" + +"Really," sighed Young R., "these are quite fool questions for one of +your hard-headed common sense! If I knew exactly 'what' and 'where', I'd +go and find it myself--at least, I might!" + +"But--'ow in the world, sir--begging your parding I'm sure, but 'ow am I +to go a-finding hobjex as I've never seen nor 'eard of?" + +"Brimberly, I pass! But if you manage it in--say a week, I'll double +your wages and give you a--er--a bonus into the bargain; think it over." + +"I--I will, sir--indeed, sir!" + +"Very well; you may go." + +"Certingly, sir." Mr. Brimberly bowed and crossed to the door but, being +there, paused. "Double me wages I think it were, sir, _and_ a bonus? +Very 'andsome, very 'andsome indeed, sir--thank you, sir." Saying which, +Mr. Brimberly bowed himself out, but immediately bowed himself in again. + +"Sir," said he, "if you could give me some hidea, sir--" + +"Some what?" + +"A few 'ints, sir, as to the nature of said hobject--whether animal, +mineral, or nooter, sir?" + +"Well--perhaps 'animal' might be the more interesting." + +"Now--as to gender, sir--masculine shall we say, or shall we make it +feminine?" + +"Oh--either will do! And yet, since you offer so wide a selection, +perhaps--er--feminine--?" + +"Very good, sir!" + +"And you'd better make it singular number, Brimberly." + +"Certingly, sir, much obliged, sir! Will you be wanting me again, sir?" + +"Not again, Brimberly." + +"Then good night, sir--thank you, sir!" And Mr. Brimberly went softly +forth and closed the door noiselessly behind him. + +Being alone, Mr. Ravenslee switched off the lights and sat in the +fire-glow. + +"Feminine gender, singular number, objective case, governed by the +verb--to love--I wonder!" + +And he laughed a little bitterly (and very youthfully) as he stared down +into the dying fire. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE WENT SEEKING AN OBJECT + + +A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Mr. Ravenslee sat there +long after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk upon his broad +chest, his sombre eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in +profound and gloomy meditation. But, all at once, he started and glanced +swiftly around toward a certain window, the curtains of which were only +partly drawn, and his lounging attitude changed instantly to one of +watchful alertness. + +As he sat thus, broad shoulders stooped, feet drawn up--poised for swift +action, he beheld a light that flashed here and there, that vanished and +came again, hovering up and down and to and fro outside the window; +wherefore he reached out a long arm in the gloom and silently opened a +certain drawer in the escritoire. + +Came a soft click, a faint creak, and a breath of cool, fragrant air as +the window was cautiously opened, and a shapeless something climbed +through, while Mr. Ravenslee sat motionless--waiting. + +The flashing light winked again, a small, bright disc that hovered +uncertainly and finally steadied upon the carved cabinet in the corner, +and the Something crept stealthily thither. A long-drawn, breathless +minute and then--the room was flooded with brilliant light, and a +figure, kneeling before the cabinet, uttered a strangled cry and leapt +up, only to recoil before Mr. Ravenslee's levelled revolver. + +A pallid-faced, willowy lad, this, of perhaps seventeen, who, sinking to +his knees, threw up an arm across his face, then raised both hands above +his head. + +"Ah, don't shoot, mister!" he gasped. "Oh, don't shoot--I got me hands +up!" + +"Stand up!" said Ravenslee grimly, "up with you and shutter that +window--you may have friends outside, and I'm taking no chances! +Quick--shutter that window, I say." + +The lad struggled to his feet and, crossing to the window, fumbled the +shutter into place, his ghastly face turning and turning toward the +revolver that glittered in such deadly fashion in Mr. Ravenslee's steady +hand. At length, the shutters barred, the boy turned, and moistening dry +lips, spoke hoarsely and with apparent effort. + +"Oh, mister--don't go for to--croak a guy as--as ain't done nothing!" + +"You broke into my house!" + +"But I--haven't took nothin'!" + +"Because I happened to catch you!" + +"But--but--oh, sir," stammered the boy, taking off his cap and fumbling +with it while he stared wide-eyed at the threatening revolver, "I--I +ain't a real thief--cross me heart and hope to die, I ain't! Don't croak +me, sir!" + +"But why in the world not?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. "Alone and unaided +I have captured a desperate criminal, a bloodthirsty villain--caught him +in the very act of burgling a cabinet where I keep my cigars of +price--and Mr. Brimberly's, of course! Consequently to--er--croak you +is my privilege as a citizen; it's all quite just and proper--really, +I ought to croak you, you know." + +"I--ain't desprit, mister," the boy pleaded, "I ain't a reg'lar crook; +dis is me first try-out--honest it is!" + +"But then I prefer to regard you as a deep-dyed desperado--you must be +quite--er--sixteen! Consequently it is my duty to croak you on the spot, +or hand you over to the police--" + +"No, no!" cried the boy, his tremulous hands reached out in a passion +of supplication, "not d' cops--don't let th' p'lice get me. Oh, I never +took nothin' from nobody--lemme go! Be a sport and let me beat it, +please, sir!" + +All Mr. Ravenslee's chronic languor seemed to have returned as, leaning +back in the deep-cushioned chair, he regarded this youthful malefactor +with sleepy eyes, yet eyes that missed nothing of the boy's quivering +earnestness as he continued, breathlessly: + +"Oh, I ain't a real crook, I never done nothin' like this before, an' +I never will again if--if you'll only let me chase meself--" + +"And now," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "I'll trouble you for the 'phone, +yonder." + +"Are ye goin' to--call in de cops?" + +"That is my intention. Give me the 'phone." + +"No!" cried the boy, and springing before the telephone he stood there, +trembling but defiant. + +"Give me that telephone!" + +"Not much I won't!" + +"Then of course I must shoot you!" + +The boy stood with head up-flung and fists tight-clenched; Mr. Ravenslee +lounged in his chair with levelled pistol. So they fronted each +other--but, all at once, with a sound between a choke and a groan, the +lad covered his face. + +"Go on!" he whispered hoarsely, "go on--what's keepin' you? If it's the +cops or croaking, I--I'd rather croak." + +"Why?" + +"'Cause if I was ever sent to--prison--it 'ud break her heart, I guess." + +"Her heart?" said Mr. Ravenslee, and lowered the pistol. + +"Me sister's." + +"Ah--so you have a sister?" and Mr. Ravenslee sat up suddenly. + +"Lots o' guys has, but there ain't a sister like mine in all N' +York--nor nowheres else." + +"Who are you? What's your name?" + +"Spike. Me real name's Arthur, but Arthur sounds kinder soft an' sissy; +nobody don't call me Arthur 'cept her, an' I don't mind her." + +"And what's her name?" + +"Hermy--Hermione, sir." + +"Hermione--why, that's Greek! It's a very beautiful name!" + +"Kind of fits her too!" nodded Spike, warming to his theme. "Hermy's +ace-high on the face and figure question! Why, there ain't a swell dame +on Fift' Av'ner, nor nowheres else, got anything on Hermy as a looker!" + +"And what of your father and mother?" + +"Ain't got none--don't remember having none--don't want none; Hermy's +good 'nuff for me." + +"Good to you, is she?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Good t' me!" cried Spike, "good? Well, say--when I think about it I--I +gets watery in me lamps, kinder sloppy in me talk, an' all mushy inside! +Good t' me? Well, you can just bet on that!" + +"And," enquired Mr. Ravenslee sleepily, "are you as good to her?" + +Hereupon Spike turned his cap inside out and looked at it thoughtfully. +"I--I dunno, mister." + +"Ah! perhaps you--make her cry, sometimes?" + +Hereupon Spike began to pick at the lining of his cap and finally +answered: "Sometimes, I guess." + +"Would she cry if she could see you now, I wonder?" + +Hereupon Spike began to wring and twist his cap in nervous hands ere he +answered: "I--I guess she might, perhaps." + +"She must love you a good deal." + +At this, Spike twisted his cap into a ball but spoke nothing; seeing +which Mr. Ravenslee proceeded. + +"You are luckier than I; there isn't a soul in the world to do as much +for me." + +Spike gulped audibly and, thereafter, sniffed. + +"Now suppose," said Mr. Ravenslee, "let us suppose she found out that +the brother she loved so much was a--thief?" + +Hereupon Spike unrolled his cap and proceeded to rub his eyes with it, +and, when at last he spoke, it was in a voice broken by great sobs. + +"Say--cut it out--cut it out! I never meant to--to do it. They got me +soused--doped me, I think, else I'd never have done it. I ain't good, +but I ain't so rotten bad as--what I seem. I ain't no real crook, but if +you wanter croak me for what I done--go ahead! Only don't--don't let d' +cops get me, 'cause o' Hermy. If you croak me, she'll think I got it in +a scrap, maybe; so if you wanter plug me, go ahead!" + +"But what are you shivering for?" + +"I--I'm just waitin', sir," answered Spike, closing his eyes, "I--I seen +a guy shot once!" + +Mr. Ravenslee sighed and nodded. + +"After all," said he, "I don't think I'll croak you," and he slipped +the revolver into his pocket while Spike watched him in sudden tense +eagerness. + +"What yer mean to do wi' me?" he asked. + +"That's the question; what shall I do with you? Let me think." + +"Say," cried the boy eagerly, "you don't have to do no thinkin'--leave +it all to me! It's de winder for mine; I'll chase meself quick--" + +"No you don't! Sit down--sit down, I say!" + +Spike sighed and seated himself on the extreme edge of the chair his +captor indicated. + +"Won't yer lemme beat it, sir?" he pleaded. + +"No, some one else might catch you next time and have the pleasure +of--er--croaking you or handing you over to the police--" + +"There won't be no next time, sir!" cried Spike eagerly. "I'll never +do it no more--I'll cut d' whole gang, I'll give Bud M'Ginnis d' +throw-down--on d' dead level I will, if you'll only let me--" + +"Who's Bud M'Ginnis?" + +"Say," exclaimed the boy, staring, "don't yer know that? Why, Bud's +d' main squeeze with d' gang, d' whole cheese, he is--an' he kind o' +thinks I'm d' candy-kid 'cause he's stuck on me sister--". + +"Ah!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, frowning a little, "and is she--er--stuck on +him?" + +"Not so as you could notice it, she ain't! No, she can't see Bud with a +pair of opry-glasses, an' he's a dead game sport, too! Oh, there ain't +no flies on Bud, an' nobody can lick him, either; but Hermy don't cotton +none, she hasn't got no use for him, see? But say--" Spike rose +tentatively and looked on his captor with eyes big and supplicating. + +"Well, what now?" + +"Why, I thought if you was tired of me chewing d' rag and wanted to hit +the feathers, I'd just cop a sneak. See, if you'll only lemme go, I'll +do d' square thing and get a steady job like Hermy wants me to--honest, +I will, sir! Y' see, me sister's away to-night--she does needleworks for +swell folks an' stops with 'em sometimes--so if you'll only let me beat +it, I can skin back an' she'll never know! Ah!--lemme go, sir!" + +"Well then," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "for her sake I will let you +go--wait! I'll let you go and never speak of your--er--little escapade +here, if you will take me with you." + +Now at this, Spike gaped and fell back a step. + +"Go wi' me--wi' me?" he stammered. "You--go wi' me to Hell's Kitchen--to +Mulligan's Dump--you! Say, what kind o' song and dance are you giving +me, anyway? Aw--quit yer kiddin', sir!" + +"But I mean it." + +"On--on d' level?" + +"On the level." + +"Holy Gee!" and Spike relapsed into wide-eyed, voiceless wonder. + +"Is it a go?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. + +"But--but, say--" stammered the boy, glancing from the elegant figure in +the chair around the luxurious room and back again, "but you're a--a--" + +"Just a poor, disconsolate, lonely--er--guy!" + +"What!" cried Spike, staring around him again, "with all this? Oh, yes, +you're homeless and starving, you are--I don't think!" + +"Is it a go?" + +"But say--whatcher want to go wi' me for? What's yer game? Put me wise." + +"I am filled with desire to breathe awhile the salubrious air of Hell's +Kitchen; will you take me?" Now as he spoke, beholding the boy's staring +amaze, Mr. Ravenslee's frowning brows relaxed, his firm, clean-shaven +lips quivered, and all at once curved up into a smile of singular +sweetness--a smile before which the hopelessness and fear died out of +the boy's long-lashed eyes, his whole strained attitude vanished, and he +smiled also--though perhaps a little tremulously. + +"Will you take me, Spike?" + +"You bet I will!" exclaimed the boy, his blue eyes shining, "and I'll do +my best to show you I--I ain't so bad as I--as I seem--an' we'll shake +on it if you like." And Spike advanced with his hand outstretched, then +paused, suddenly abashed, and drooping his head, turned away. "I--I +forgot," he muttered, "--I'm--you said I was a--thief!" + +"You meant to be!" said Mr. Ravenslee, and rising, he stretched himself +and glanced at his watch. + +"Are you coming wi' me, sir?" enquired Spike, regarding Mr. Ravenslee's +length and breadth with quick, appraising eyes. + +"I surely am!" + +"But--but not in them glad rags!" and Spike pointed to Mr. Ravenslee's +exquisitely tailored garments. + +"Ah--to be sure!" nodded their wearer. "We'll soon fix that," and he +touched the electric bell. + +"Say," cried Spike, starting forward in sudden terror, "you--you ain't +goin' to give me away?" + +"No." + +"Cross your heart--hope to die, you ain't?" + +"Across my heart and hope to die, I'm not--and there's my hand on it, +Spike." + +"What?" exclaimed the boy, his eyes suspiciously bright, "d' you mean +you will shake--after--after what I--" + +"There's my hand, Spike!" So their hands met and gripped, the boy's hot +and eagerly tremulous, the man's cool and steady and strong; then of a +sudden Spike choked and turning his back brushed away his tears with his +cap. Also at this moment, with a soft and discreet knock, Mr. Brimberly +opened the door and bowed himself into the room; his attitude was +deferential as always, his smile as respectful, but, beholding Spike, +his round eyes grew rounder and his whiskers slightly bristly. + +"Ah, Brimberly," nodded his master, "you are not in bed yet--good!" + +"No, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, "I'm not in bed yet, sir, but when +you rang I was in the very hact, sir--" + +"First of all," said Young R., selecting a cigar, "let me introduce you +to--er--my friend, Spike!" + +Hereupon Mr. Brimberly rolled his eyes in Spike's direction, glanced him +over, touched either whisker, and bowed--and lo! those fleecy whiskers +were now eloquent of pompous dignity, beholding which Spike shuffled his +feet, averted his eyes, and twisted his cap into a very tight ball +indeed. + +But now Brimberly turned his eyes (and his whiskers) on his master, who +had taken out his watch. + +"Brimberly," said he, "it is now very nearly two o'clock." + +"Very late, sir--oh, very late, sir--indeed, I was in the very hact of +goin' to bed, sir--I'd even unbuttoned my waistcoat, sir, when you +rang--two o'clock, sir--dear me, a most un-'oly hour, sir--" + +"Consequently, Brimberly, I am thinking of taking a little outing--" + +"Certingly, sir--oh, certingly!" + +"And I want some other clothes--" + +"Clothes, sir--yessir. There's the noo 'arris tweed, sir--" + +"With holes in them, if possible, Brimberly." + +"'Oles, sir! Beg parding, sir, but did you say 'oles, sir?" + +"Also patches, Brimberly, the bigger the better!" + +"Patches! Hexcuse me, sir, but--patches! I beg parding, but--" Mr. +Brimberly laid a feeble hand upon a twitching whisker. + +"In a word, Brimberly," pursued his master, seating himself upon the +escritoire and swinging his leg, "I want some old clothes, shabby +clothes--moth-eaten, stained, battered, and torn. Also a muffler and +an old hat. Can you find me some?" + +"No, sir, I don't--that is, yessir, I do. Hexcuse me, sir--'arf a +moment, sir." Saying which, Mr. Brimberly bowed and went from the room +with one hand still clutching his whisker very much as though he had +taken himself into custody and were leading himself out. + +"Say," exclaimed Spike in a hoarse whisper and edging nearer to Mr. +Ravenslee, "who's His Whiskers--de swell guy with d' face trimmings?" + +"Why, since you ask, Spike, he is a very worthy person who devotes his +life to--er--looking after my welfare and--other things." + +"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, staring, "I should have thought you was big +'nuff to do that fer yourself, unless--" and here he broke off suddenly +and gazed on Mr. Ravenslee's long figure with a new and more particular +interest. + +"Unless what?" + +"Say--you ain't got bats in your belfry, have you--you ain't weak in the +think-box, or soft in the nut, are ye?" + +"No--at least not more than the average, I believe." + +"I mean His Whiskers don't have to lead you around on a string or watch +out you don't set fire to yourself, does he?" + +"Well, strictly speaking, I can't say that his duties are quite so +far-reaching." + +"Who are you, anyway?" + +"Well, my names are Geoffrey, Guy, Eustace, Hughson-and--er--a few +others, but these will do to go on with, perhaps?" + +"Well, I guess yes!" + +"You can take your choice." + +"Well, Guy won't do--no siree--ye see every mutt's a guy down our +way--so I guess we'll make it Geoff. But, say, if you ain't weak on the +think-machinery, why d' ye keep a guy like His Whiskers hanging around?" + +"Because he has become a habit, Spike--and habits cling--and speaking of +habits--here it is!" Sure enough, at that moment Brimberly's knuckles +made themselves discreetly heard, and Brimberly himself appeared with +divers garments across his arm, at sight of which Spike stood +immediately dumb in staring, awe-struck wonder. + +"Ah, you've got them, Brimberly?" + +"Yessir! These is the best I can do, sir--" + +"Say rather--the worst!" + +"'Ere's a nice, big 'ole in the coat, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, +unfolding the garment in question, "and the weskit, sir; the pocket +is tore, you'll notice, sir." + +"Excellent, Brimberly!" + +"As for these trousis, sir--" + +"They seem rather superior garments, I'm afraid!" said Mr. Ravenslee, +shaking his head. + +"But you'll notice as they're very much wore round the 'eels, sir." + +"They'll do. Now the hat and muffler." + +"All 'ere, sir--the 'at's got its brim broke, sir." + +"Couldn't be better, Brimberly!" So saying, Mr. Ravenslee took up the +clothes and turned toward the door. "Now I'll trouble you to keep an eye +on--er--young America here while I get into these." + +"Sir," said Mr. Brimberly, turning his whiskers full upon Spike, who +immediately fell to shuffling and wringing at his cap. "Sir--I will, +certingly, sir." + +Now when the door had shut after his master, Mr. Brimberly raised eyes +and hands to the ceiling and shook his head until his whiskers quivered. +Quoth he: "Hall I arsks is--wot next!" Thereafter he lowered his eyes +and regarded Spike as if he had been that basest of base minions--a boy +in buttons. At last he deigned speech. + +"And w'en did _you_ come in, pray?" + +"'Bout a hour ago, sir," answered Spike, dropping his cap in his +embarrassment. + +"Ah!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, "about a hour ago--ho! By appointment, I +pre-zoom?" + +"No, sir--by a winder." + +"A--wot?" + +"A winder, sir." + +"A--winder? 'Eavens and earth--a winder--ow? Where? Wot for?" + +"Say, mister," said Spike, breaking in upon Mr. Brimberly's astounded +questioning, "is he nutty?" And he jerked his thumb toward the door +through which Mr. Ravenslee had gone. + +"Nutty!" said Mr. Brimberly, staring. + +"Yes--I mean is he batty? Has he got wheels?" + +"W'eels?" said Mr. Brimberly, his eyes rounder than usual. + +"Well, then, is he daffy?--off his trolley?" + +"Off 'is wot?" said Mr. Brimberly, fumbling for his whisker. + +"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, "can't you understand English? Say, is your +brother as smart as you?" + +"The honly brother as ever I 'ad was a infant as died and--but wot was +you saying about a winder?" + +"Nothin'!" + +"Come, speak up, you young vagabone--" began Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers +suddenly fierce and threatening, but just then, fortunately for Spike, +the door swung, open, and Mr. Ravenslee entered. + +And lo! what a change was here! The battered hat, the faded muffler and +shabby clothes seemed only to show off all the hitherto hidden strength +and vigour of the powerful limbs below; indeed it almost seemed that +with his elegant garments he had laid aside his lassitude also and taken +on a new air of resolution, for his eyes were sleepy no longer, and his +every gesture was lithe and quick. So great was the change that Spike +stared speechless, and Mr. Brimberly gaped with whiskers a-droop. + +"Well, shall I do?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee, tightening his faded +neckerchief. + +"Do?" repeated Spike, "say--you look all to d' mustard, Geoff! You--you +look as if you could--do things, now!" + +"Strangely enough, Spike, I rather feel that way too!" So saying, Mr. +Ravenslee took a pipe from the rack, filled it with quick, energetic +fingers, and proceeded to light it, watched in dumb amaze by the gaping +Brimberly. + +"Brimberly," said he, "I shall probably return to-morrow." + +"Yes, sir," said he faintly. + +"Or the day after." + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Or the day after." + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Or the day after that; anyhow, I shall probably return. Should any one +call--business or otherwise--tell 'em to call again; say I'm out of +town--you understand?" + +"Out of town--certingly, sir." + +"Referring to--to the matter we talked of to-night, Brimberly--" + +"Meaning the hobject, sir?" + +"Precisely! Don't trouble yourself about it." + +"No, sir?" + +"No, Brimberly--I'm going to try and find one for myself." + +"Ho--very good, sir!" + +"And now," said the new Mr. Ravenslee, laying one white, ringless hand +on Spike's shoulder and pointing toward the open door with the other, +"lead on--young Destiny!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TELLING HOW HE CAME TO HELL'S KITCHEN AT PEEP O' DAY + + +It was past three o'clock and dawn was at hand as, by devious ways, +Spike piloted his companion through that section of New York City which +is known to the initiated as "Hell's Kitchen." By dismal streets they +went, past silent, squalid houses and tall tenements looming grim and +ghostly in the faint light; crossing broad avenues very silent and +deserted at this hour, on and on until, dark and vague and mysterious, +the great river flowed before them only to be lost again as they plunged +into a gloomy court where tall buildings rose on every hand, huge and +very silent, teeming with life--but life just now wrapped in that +profound quietude of sleep which is so much akin to death. Into one of +these tall tenement buildings, its ugliness rendered more ugly by the +network of iron fire-escape ladders that writhed up the face of it, +Spike led the way, first into a dark hallway and thence up many stairs +that echoed to their light-treading feet--on and up, past dimly lit +landings where were doors each of which shut in its own little world, a +world distinct and separate wherein youth and age, good and evil, joy +and misery, lived and moved and had their being; behind these dingy +panels were smiling hope and black despair, blooming health and pallid +sickness, and all those sins and virtues that go to make up the sum +total of humanity. + +Something of all this was in Geoffrey Ravenslee's mind as he climbed the +dingy, interminable stair behind Spike, who presently halted to get his +wind and whisper: + +"It ain't much further now, Geoff, only another two flights and--" He +stopped suddenly to listen, and from the landing above a sound reached +them, a sound soft but unmistakable--a woman's muffled sobbing. + +Slowly, cautiously, they mounted the stair until in the dim light of a +certain landing they beheld a slim figure bowed upon its knees in an +agony of abasement before a scarred and dingy door. Even as they stared, +the slender, girlish figure sobbed again, and, with a sudden, yearning +gesture, lifted a face, pale in the half-light, and kissed that battered +door; thereafter, weeping still, she rose to her feet and turned, but +seeing Spike, stood very still all at once and with hands clasped tight +together. + +"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike beneath his breath; then, in a hoarse +whisper: "Is that Maggie--Maggie Finlay?" + +"Oh--is that you, Arthur?" she whispered back. "Arthur--oh, Arthur, I, +I'm going away, but I couldn't go without coming to--to kiss dear mother +good-by--and now I'm here I daren't knock for fear of--father. I've been +up to your door and knocked, but Hermy's away, I guess. Anyway, +you--you'll say I came to thank her and--kiss her for the last time, +won't you, Arthur?" + +"Sure I will--but where ye goin', Maggie?" + +"A long way, Arthur! I don't s'pose I shall ever--see this place any +more--or you--so, Arthur, will you--kiss me good-by--just once?" + +Spike hesitated, but she, quick and light-treading, came down to him and +caught his hand and would have kissed that, but he snatched it away and, +leaning forward, kissed her tear-stained cheek, and blushed thereafter +despite the dark. + +"Good-by, Arthur!" she whispered, "and thank you--and dear Hermy--oh, +good-by!" So saying, she hurried on past Ravenslee, down the dark +stairway, while Spike leaned over the balustrade to whisper: + +"Good-by, Maggie--an' good luck, Kid!" At this she paused to look up at +him with great, sad eyes--a long, wistful look, then, speaking no more, +hurried on down the stair--down, down into the shadows, and was gone. + +"We used to go to school together, Geoff," the boy explained a little +self-consciously, "she never--kissed me before; she ain't the kissin' +sort. I wonder why she did it to-night? I wonder--" + +So saying, Spike turned and led the way on again until they reached the +landing above, across which two doors, dark and unlovely, seemed to +scowl upon each other. One of these Spike proceeded to open with a +latchkey, and so led Ravenslee into the dark void beyond. Spike struck +a match and lighted the gas, and, looking about him, Ravenslee stared. + +A little, cramped room, sparsely furnished yet dainty and homelike, for +the small, deal table hid its bare nakedness beneath a dainty cloth; the +two rickety armchairs veiled their faded tapestry under chintz covers, +cunningly contrived and delicately tinted to match the cheap but +soft-toned drugget on the floor and the self-coloured paper on the +walls, where hung two or three inexpensive reproductions of famous +paintings; and in all things there breathed an air of refinement wholly +unexpected in Hell's Kitchen. Wherefore Mr. Ravenslee, observing all +things with his quick glance, felt an ever-growing wonder. But now +Spike, who had been clattering plates and dishes in the kitchen hard +by, thrust his head around the door to say: + +"Oh, Geoff--I don't feel like doin' the shut-eye business, d' you? How +about a cup of coffee, an' I daresay I might dig out some eats; what d' +ye say?" + +"Is this--your sister?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee, taking up a photograph +from the little sideboard. + +"Yep, that's Hermy all right--taken las' year--does her hair different +now. How about some coffee, Geoff?" + +"Coffee?" said Mr. Ravenslee, staring at the picture, +"coffee--certainly--er--thanks! She has--light hair, Spike?" + +"Gold!" said Spike, and vanished; whereupon Mr. Ravenslee laid the +photograph on the table, and sitting down, fell to viewing it intently. + +A wonderful face, low-browed, deep-eyed, full-lipped. Here was none of +smiling prettiness, for these eyes were grave and thoughtful, these +lips, despite their soft, voluptuous curves, were firmly modelled like +the rounded chin below, and, in all the face, despite its vivid youth, +was a vague and wistful sadness. + +"Oh, Geoff," called Spike, "d' ye mind having yer coffee à la milko +condenso?" + +"Milk?" exclaimed Mr. Ravenslee, starting. "Oh--yes--anything will do!" + +"Why, hello!" exclaimed Spike, reappearing with a cup and saucer, "still +piping off Hermy's photo, Geoff?" + +"I'm wondering why she looks so sad?" + +"Sad?" repeated Spike, setting down the crockery with a rattle, "Hermy +ain't sad; she always looks like that. Y' see, she ain't much on the +giggle, Geoff, but she's most always singing, 'cept when her kids is +sick or Mulligan calls--" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Oh, Hermy mothers all the kids around here when they're sick, an' lots +o' kids is always getting sick. And when Mulligan comes it's rent day, +an' sometimes Hermy's a bit shy on the money--" + +"Is she?" said Mr. Ravenslee, frowning. + +"You bet she is, Geoff! An' Mulligan's an Irishman an' mean--say, he's +the meanest mutt you ever see. A Jew's mean, so's a Chink, but a mean +Harp's got 'em both skinned 'way to 'Frisco an' back again! Why, +Mulligan's that mean he wouldn't cough up a nickel to see the Statue +o' Liberty do a Salomy dance in d' bay. So when the mazuma's shy Hermy +worries some--" + +"Don't you help her?" demanded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Help her--why, y' see, Geoff, I--I ain't in a steady job yet. But I +do my best an'--why, there's d' kettle boilin' at last!" saying which, +Spike turned and vanished again, leaving Mr. Ravenslee still staring +down at the pictured face. Presently he sank back in his chair, and, +lolling thus, looked sleepily at the opposite wall but saw it not, nor +heard the clatter of cups and saucers from the kitchen accompanied by +Spike's windy whistling; and, as he lounged thus, he spoke softly, and +to himself. + +"An object!" he murmured. + +"Hey, Geoff," Spike called, "this ain't goin' to be no à la carte, hock +an' claret feedin' match, nor yet no table-de-hoty eat-fest, but if you +can do in some bacon an' eggs, you're on!" + +"Why, then," said Mr. Ravenslee, rising and yawning, "count me decidedly +'on.'" + +"Then d' you mind givin' me a hand wid d' coffee?" + +"Delighted!" and forthwith Mr. Ravenslee stepped out into the kitchen; +and there, in a while, upon a rickety table covered with a greasy +newspaper, they ate and drank with great relish and gusto, insomuch +that Mr. Ravenslee marvelled at his own appetite. + +"Say, Geoff," enquired Spike as hunger waned, "how long are you stoppin' +at Mulligan's--a week?" + +"A week--a month--six months," replied his guest sleepily. "It's all +according--" + +"Accordin' to what?" + +"Well--er--circumstances." + +"What circumstances?" + +"Circumstances over which I have no control--yet!" + +"You don't mean me?" queried Spike, with an anxious expression. + +"Lord, no!" + +"And you'll never tell nobody that I--that I--" + +"Meant to be--a thief?" drawled Mr. Ravenslee. "Not a word!" + +Spike flushed, took a gulp of coffee, choked, and fell to sulky silence, +while Mr. Ravenslee filled his pipe and yawned. + +"Say," demanded Spike at last, "where'll you live while you're here?" + +"Oh--somewhere, I suppose; I haven't bothered about where yet." + +"Well, I been thinkin' I know where I can fix you up--perhaps!" + +"Very kind of you, Spike!" + +"There's Mrs. Trapes 'cross d'landing; she lost her lodger last +week--mean guy skinned off without paying d' rent--she might take you." + +"Across the landing? She'll do!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"But I'm wonderin' if _you'll_ do; she's a holy terror when she likes, +Geoff." + +"Across the landing? I'll put up with her!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee. + +"But, say, you don't know Mrs. Trapes." + +"Not yet, Spike." + +"Well, she ain't no easy mark, Geoff! Most everybody in Mulligan's is +scared of her when she cuts loose; she can talk ye deaf, dumb an' +paralysed, she can so. She sure is aces up on d' chin-music, Geoff!" + +"But then she lives just opposite, and that circumstance, methinks, doth +cover a multitude of--" Mr. Ravenslee yawned again. + +"Anyway, it's a sure thing she won't take you if she don't like ye, +Geoff." + +"Why, then, she must like me!" said Mr. Ravenslee and proceeded to light +his pipe; whereupon Spike produced a box of cigarettes, but, in the act +of lighting one, paused, and sighing, put it away again. + +"I promised d' Spider I wouldn't, Geoff," he explained. "Y' see, I'm +sort of in trainin', and Spider says smoke's bad for d' wind, and d' +Spider knows." + +"Spider?" said Mr. Ravenslee, glancing up, "do you mean Spider Connolly +the lightweight?" + +"That's d' guy!" nodded Spike. + +"Is he a friend of yours?" + +"Sure! Him an' Bud M'Ginnis is goin' to get me some good matches soon." + +"Boxing matches?" + +"That's what they call 'em, Geoff--but there ain't much boxin' to it; +real boxin' don't go down wid d' sports, it's d' punch they wanter +see--good, stiff wallops as jars a guy an' makes his knees get +wobbly--swings and jolts as makes a guy blind an' deaf an' sick. Oh, +I been like that, an' I know--an' it ain't all candy t' hear everybody +yellin' to the other guy to go in an' finish ye!" + +"Does your sister know you fight?" + +"Not much, she don't! I guess she'd like me to be a mommer's pet in lace +collars an' a velvet suit, an' soft an' pretty in me talk. She's made +me promise t' cut out d' tough-spiel, an' so I'm tryin' to--" + +"Are you really, Spike?" + +"Well--when she's around I do, Geoff!" + +"And she doesn't like you to fight, eh?" + +"Nope! But y' see--she's only a girl, Geoff!" + +"And that's the wonder of it!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Wonder? What d' ye mean?" + +"I mean that all these years she has managed to feed you, and clothe +you, and keep a comfortable home for you, and she's--only a girl!" + +"Well, and ain't I tryin' to make good?" cried the boy eagerly. + +"Are you really, Spike?" + +"Sure! There's lots o' money in d' fightin' game, an' I'm fightin' all +for Hermy. If ever I get a champ, I'll have money to burn, an' then +she'll never be shy on d' dollar question no more, you bet! There'll +be no more needlework or Mulligan's for Hermy; it'll be a farm in d' +country wid roses climbin' around, an' chickens, an'--an' automobiles, +an' servants to come when she pushes d' button--you bet!" + +"Is she so fond of the country?" + +"Well, I guess yes! An' flowers--Gee, she nearly eats 'em!" + +"On the other hand," said Mr. Ravenslee, watching the smoke from his +pipe with a dreamy eye, "on the other hand I gather she does not +like--Mr. M'Ginnis! I wonder why?" + +"You can search me!" answered Spike, shaking his head, "but it's a sure +thing she ain't got no use for Bud." + +"And yet--you go around with him, Spike." + +"But don't I tell ye he's been good t' me! He's goin' t' match me with +some top-liners; he says if I can stick it I'll be a champion sure." + +"Yes," nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but when?" + +"Oh, Bud's got it all doped out. But say--" + +"And in the meantime your sister will go on feeding you and clothing you +and--" + +"Cheese it, Geoff," cried the boy, flushing. "You make a guy feel like a +two-spot in the discard! I told you I'd try to get a steady job, an' so +I will--but I ain't goin' to quit the fightin' game for nobody! 'N' +say--I'm sleepy. How about it? You can have my bed, or the couch here, +or you can get in Hermy's--" + +"Thanks, the couch will do, Spike." + +"Then I guess it's me for the feathers!" said Spike, rising and +stretching, "so long, Geoff!" + +And in a while, having finished his pipe and knocked out the ashes, Mr. +Ravenslee stretched his long limbs upon the chintz-covered sofa, and, +_mirabile dictu_, immediately fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HOW MRS. TRAPES ACQUIRED A NEW LODGER, DESPITE HER ELBOWS + + +He awoke suddenly and sat up to find the room full of sunshine and Spike +standing beside him, a bright-faced, merry-eyed Spike, very spruce and +neat as to person. + +"Say, Geoff," said he, "I've seen Mrs. Trapes, an' she wants you to go +over so she can pipe you off. 'N' say, you're sure up against a catty +proposition in her; if you don't hit it off on the spot as soon as she +gets her lamps onto you, it'll be nix for you, Geoff, an' nothin' +doin'!" + +"Lucid!" said Ravenslee, yawning, "and sounds promising!" + +"Why, y' see, Geoff, she's got a grouch on because I was out last night, +so, if she gives you the gimlet eye at first, just josh her along a bit. +Now slick yourself up an' come on." Obediently Mr. Ravenslee arose and +having tightened his neckerchief and smoothed his curly hair, crossed +the landing and followed Spike into the opposite flat, a place of +startling cleanliness as to floors and walls, and everything therein; +uncomfortably trim of aspect and direfully ornate as to rugs and carpet +and sofa cushions. + +Mrs. Trapes herself was elderly; she was also a woman of points, being +bony and sharp featured, particularly as to elbows, which were generally +bare. Indeed, they might be said to be her most salient and obtrusive +features; but her shrewd, sharp eyes held an elusive kindliness at +times, and when she smiled, which was very rarely, her elbows and her +general sharpness were quite forgotten. + +She was awaiting them in her parlour, enthroned in her best easy chair, +a chair of green velvet where purple flowers bloomed riotously, her feet +firm-planted upon a hearthrug cunningly enwrought with salmon-pink +sunflowers. Bolt upright and stiff of back she sat, making the very +utmost of her elbows, for her sleeves being rolled high (as was their +wont) and her arms being folded within her apron, they projected +themselves to left and right in highly threatening fashion. Sphinx-like +she sat, very silent and very still, while her sharp eyes roved over Mr. +Ravenslee's person from the toes of his boots to the dark hair that +curled short and crisp above his brow. Thus she looked him up and she +looked him down, viewing each garment in turn; lastly, she lifted her +gaze to his face and stared at him--eye to eye. + +And eye to eye Mr. Ravenslee, serene and calm as ever, met her look, +while Spike, observing her granite-like expression and the fierce jut of +her elbows, shuffled, and glanced toward the door. But still Mrs. Trapes +glared up at Mr. Ravenslee, and still Mr. Ravenslee glanced down at Mrs. +Trapes wholly unabashed, nay--he actually smiled, and, bowing his dark +head, spoke in his easy, pleasant voice. + +"A beautiful afternoon, Mrs. Trapes!" + +Mrs. Trapes snorted. + +"This room will suit me--er--admirably." + +Mrs. Trapes started slightly, opened her grim lips, shut them again, +and--wriggled her elbows. + +"Yes, indeed," continued Mr. Ravenslee pleasantly, "I like this room--so +nice and bright, like the rug and wall paper--especially the rug. Yes, I +like the rug and the--er--stuffed owl in the corner!" and he nodded to a +shapeless, moth-eaten something under a glass case against the wall. + +Mrs. Trapes wriggled her elbows again and, glaring still, spoke +harsh-voiced. + +"Young feller, that owl's a parrot!" + +"A parrot--of course!" assented Mr. Ravenslee gently, "and a very fine +parrot too! Then the wax flowers and the antimacassars! What would a +home be without them?" said he, dreamy-eyed and grave. "I think I shall +be very bright and cheerful here, my dear Mrs. Trapes." + +Mrs. Trapes swallowed audibly, stared at Spike until he writhed, and +finally bored her sharp eyes into Mr. Ravenslee again. + +"Young man," said she, "what name?" + +"I think our friend Spike has informed you that I am sometimes called +Geoffrey. Mrs. Trapes, our friend Spike told the truth." + +"Young feller," she demanded, "'oo are you and--what?" + +"Mrs. Trapes," he sighed, "I am a lonely wight, a wanderer in wild +places, a waif, a stray, puffed hither and thither by a fate perverse--" + +"Talking o' verses, you ain't a poet, are you?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, +"last poet as lodged wi' me useter go to bed in 'is boots reg'lar! +Consequently I ain't nowise drawed to poets--" + +Mr. Ravenslee laughed and shook his head. + +"Have no fear," he answered, "I'm no poet nor ever shall be. I'm quite +an ordinary human being, I assure you." + +"Young feller--references?" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I have none--except my face. But you have very sharp eyes; +look at me well. Do I strike you as a rogue or a thief?" + +Here Spike, chancing to catch his eye, blushed painfully, while Mr. +Ravenslee continued: + +"Come, Mrs. Trapes, you have a motherly heart, I know, and I am a very +lonely being who needs one like you to--to cook and care for his bodily +needs and to look after the good of his solitary soul. Were I to search +New York I couldn't find another motherly heart so suited to my crying +needs as yours; you won't turn me away, will you?" Saying which, Mr. +Ravenslee smiled his slow, sleepy smile and--wonder of wonders--Mrs. +Trapes smiled too! + +"When d' ye wanter come?" + +"Now!" + +"Land sakes!" she exclaimed. + +"If it won't trouble you too much?" he added. + +"There's sheets to be aired--" she began, but checked suddenly to stare +at him again. "Look a here, Mr. Geoffrey," she went on, "my terms is +two-fifty a week, ten dollars _with_ board, and a week in advance." + +"Good!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but since I'm coming in at such short +notice, I'll pay three weeks ahead just to--er--bind the bargain. +See--that will be thirty dollars, won't it?" And speaking, he drew a +handful of crumpled bills from his pocket and proceeded to count out +thirty dollars upon the green and yellow tablecloth. + +"Sakes alive!" murmured Mrs. Trapes. + +"And now," said he, "I'll just step around the corner with Spike to +buy--er--a toothbrush." + +"Toothbrush!" echoed Mrs. Trapes faintly. + +"And a few other things. I shall be in early to supper." + +"Would a nice, English mutton chop wiv tomatoes--" + +"Excellent; and thank you, Mrs. Trapes, for sheltering a homeless +wretch." So saying, her new boarder smiled and nodded and, following +Spike out into the hallway, was gone. + +But Mrs. Trapes stood awhile to stare after him, lost in speculation. + +"A toothbrush!" said she. "My! My!" Then she turned to stare down at the +pile of bills. "Now I wonder," said she, right hand caressing left +elbow-point, "I jest wonder who he's been a-choking of to get all that +money? But I like his eyes! And his smile! And he looks a man--and +honest! Well, well!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOW SPIKE INITIATED MR. RAVENSLEE INTO THE GENTLE ART OF SHOPPING + + +"Gee!" exclaimed Spike, as they descended the many stairs, "she sure +gave you the frosty-face, Geoff, but it didn't seem to joggle you any!" + +"No, it didn't joggle me, Spike, because you see--I like her." + +"Like Mrs. Trapes? You 'n' Hermy are about the only ones then; most +every one in Mulligan's hates her an' gets scared stiff when she cuts +loose! But say, you do keep on rubbing it in, I mean about--about +thieving!" + +"Probably it's your conscience, Spike." + +"You won't ever go telling any one or blowing d' game on me?" + +"Spike, when I make a promise I generally keep it." + +"Y' see, Geoff, it ain't as though I was a--a real crook." + +"You meant to be." + +"But I never stole nothin' in my life, Geoff." + +"Suppose I hadn't caught you?" + +"Oh, well, cheese it, Geoff, cheese it! Let's talk about something +else." + +"With pleasure. When does your sister return?" + +"This evening, I guess. But, Geoff--say now, do I look like a real +crook--do I?" + +"No, you don't, Spike, that's sure! And yet--only last night--" + +"Ah, yes, I know--I know!" groaned the lad, "but I was crazy, I think. +It was the whisky, Geoff, an' they doped me too, I guess! I don't +remember much after we left till I found myself in your swell joint. +God! if I was only sure they doped me." + +"Who?" + +"Who? Why--gee, you nearly had me talking that time! Nix on the +questions, Geoff, I ain't goin' to give 'em away; it ain't playin' +square. Only, if two or three guys dopes a guy till a guy's think-box is +like a cheese an' his mind as clear as mud, that poor guy ain't to be +blamed for it, now, is he?" + +"Why, certainly!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"How d' ye make that out?" + +"For being such a fool of a guy as to let other guys fool him, of +course. Sounds a little cryptic, but I guess you understand." + +"Oh, I get you!" sighed Spike drearily. "But say, didn't you come out to +buy a toothbrush?" + +"And other things, yes." + +"Well, say, s'pose we quit chewing th' rag an' start in an' get 'em. +There's a Sheeny store on Ninth Avenue where you can get dandy shirts +for fifty cents a throw." + +"Sounds fairly reasonable!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee as they turned up +Thirty-ninth Street. + +"Then you want a new lid, Geoff!" + +Mr. Ravenslee took off the battered hat and looked at it. + +"What's the matter with this?" he enquired. + +"Nothin', Geoff, only it wants burnin'," sighed Spike. "An' then--them +boots--oh, gee!" + +"Are they so bad as that?" + +"Geoff, they sure are the punkest pavement pounders in little old N' +York. Why, a Dago hodcarrier wouldn't be seen dead in 'em; look at th' +patches. Gee whizz! Where did His Whiskers dig 'em up from?" + +"I fancy they were his own--once," answered Mr. Ravenslee, surveying his +bulbous, be-patched footgear a little ruefully. + +"Well, I'll gamble a stack of blue chips there ain't such a phoney pair +in Manhattan Village." + +"They're not exactly things of beauty, I'll admit," sighed Mr. +Ravenslee, "but still--" + +"They're rotten, Geoff! They're all to the garbage can! They are the +cheesiest proposition in sidewalk slappers I ever piped off!" + +"Hum! You're inclined to be a trifle discouraging, Spike!" + +"Why, ye see, Geoff, I wan'cher t' meet th' push, an' I don't want 'em +to think I'm floatin' around with a down-an'-out from Battyville! You +must have some real shoes, Geoff." + +"Enough--it shall be done!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Well, tan Oxfords are all to th' grapes just now, Geoff. I don't mean +those giddy-lookin' pumps with flossy bows onto 'em, but somethin' +sporty, good an' yellow that'll flash an' let folks know you're comin'. +And here's Eckstein's!" + +With which abrupt remark Spike plunged into a shop, very dark and narrow +by reason of a heterogeneous collection of garments, of ribbons and +laces, of collars and ties of many shapes and hues, together with a +thousand and one other things that displayed themselves from floor to +ceiling; amidst which, Mr. Ravenslee observed a stir, a slight +confusion, and from a screen of vivid-bosomed shirts a head protruded +itself, round as to face and sleek as to hair. + +"Greetin's, Ikey!" said Spike, nodding to the head. "How's pork to-day?" + +"Aw--vat you vant now, hey?" enquired the head. "Vat's the vord; +now--shpit it out!" + +"It ain't me, Moses, it's me friend wants a sporty fit-out an' discount +for spot cash, see? Show us your half-dollar shirts for a starter--an' +sporty ones, mind!" + +Immediately out came drawers and down came boxes, and very soon the +small counter was littered with piles of raiment variously gaudy which +Spike viewed and disparaged with such knowing judgment that the +salesman's respect proportionately grew, and Mr. Ravenslee, lounging in +the background, was forgotten quite, the while they chaffered after this +manner: + +Salesman. "Here vos a shirt as can't be beat for der +money--neglegee boosom an' turnover cuffs, warranted shrunk, and all for +vun dollar." + +Spike. "Come off, Aaron, come off! Fifty cents is th' bid!" + +Salesman. "Fifty cents? Vy, on Broadvay dey'd sharge you--" + +Spike. "Wake up, Ike! This ain't Broadway! And fifty's the +limit!" + +Salesman. "But shust look at dem pink shtripes--so vide as an +inch! Dere's fifty cents' vorth of dye in dem shtripes, an' I'll give it +you for seventy-five cents! On Broadvay--" + +Spike. "We're gettin' there, Ikey, we're gettin' there; keep +on, fifty's the call!" + +Salesman. "Fifty cents! Oi! Oi! I vould be ruined! A neglegee +boosom and turnover cuffs! Vell, vell--I'll wrap it up, so--an' I make +you a present of it for--sixty! An' on Broadvay--" + +Spike. "Come on, Geoff, Aaron's talking in his sleep! Come on, +we'll go on to Mendelbaum's; see--we want shirts, an' ties, an' socks, +an' collars, an'--" + +Salesman. "Vait--vait! Mendelbaum's a grafter--vait! I got th' +best selection of socks an' ties on Ninth Av'noo, an' here's a neglegee +shirt with turnover cuffs--an' only fifty cents. But at Mendelbaum's or +on Broadvay--" + +In this way Mr. Ravenslee became possessed of sundry shirts whose bosoms +blushed in striped and spotted splendour, of vivid-hued ties and of +handkerchiefs with flaming borders. From shop to shop Spike led him and, +having a free hand, bought right royally, commanding that their +purchases be sent around hotfoot to Mulligan's. Thus Spike ordered, and +Mr. Ravenslee dutifully paid, marvelling that so much might be bought +for so little. + +"I guess that's about all the fixings you'll need, Geoff!" said Spike, +as they elbowed their way along the busy avenue. + +"Well," answered Mr. Ravenslee, as he filled his pipe, "it will +certainly take me some time to wear 'em out--especially those shirts!" + +"They sure are dandies, Geoff! Yes, those shirts are all to the +lollipops, but say, you made a miscue gettin' them black shoes," and +here Spike turned to stare down at his companion's newly acquired +footwear. "Why not buy the yellow boys I rustled up for you. They sure +were some shoes!" + +"They were indeed, Spike." + +"Gee, but it must feel good t' be able t' buy whatever you want!" sighed +Spike dreamily. "Some day I mean to have a wad big enough t' choke a +cow--but I wish I had it right now!" + +"What would you do with it?" + +"Do with it! Well, say, first off I'd--I'd buy Hermy them roses--th' +whole lot," and he pointed where, among the pushcarts drawn up against +the curb, was one where roses bloomed, filling the air with their +sweetness. "An' next she should--" + +"Then go and buy 'em, Spike!" and speaking, Mr. Ravenslee thrust a bill +into Spike's hand. + +"Gee--a twenty-spot! Can I, Geoff?" he cried, his blue eyes shining. +"Th' whole lot--on d' level?" + +"On the level." + +Spike started joyfully away, paused, turned, and came back with head +a-droop. + +"I guess it can't be done, Geoff," he sighed. + +"Why not?" + +"Well, y' see, it ain't as it was my own money, really." + +"But it is!" + +"No, it ain't! I haven't earned it, Geoff, an' I ain't a guy as sponges +on his pals, not much I ain't. Take your money, Geoff. When I buy Hermy +anything it's goin' to be bought with money as I've earned." + +So Mr. Ravenslee thrust the bill back into his pocket and thereafter +walked on, frowning and very silent, as one lost in perplexed thought. +Wherefore, after more than one furtive glance at him, Spike addressed +him with a note of diffidence in his voice. + +"You ain't sore with me, are you, Geoff?" + +"Sore with you?" + +"I mean, because I--I didn't take your money?" + +Here Mr. Ravenslee turned to glance down at Spike and clap a hand upon +his shoulder. + +"No," he answered, "I'm not sore with you. And I think--yes, I think +your sister is going to be proud of you one day." + +And now it was Spike's turn to grow thoughtful, while his companion, +noting the flushed brow and the firm set of the boyish lips, frowned no +longer. + +"Hello, there's Tony!" exclaimed Spike as they turned into Forty-second +Street, "over there--behind the pushcart--th' guy with th' peanuts!" And +he pointed where, from amid a throng of vehicles, a gaily painted barrow +emerged, a barrow whereon were peanuts unbaked, baked, and baking as the +shrill small whistle above its stove proclaimed to all and sundry. It +was propelled by a slender, graceful, olive-skinned man, who, beholding +Spike, flashed two rows of brilliant teeth and halted his barrow beside +the curb. + +"How goes it, Tony?" questioned Spike, whereat the young Italian smiled, +and thereafter sighed and shook his head. + +"Da beezeneez-a ver' good," he sighed, "da peanut-a sell-a all-a da +time! But my lil' Pietro he sick, he no da same since his moder die-a, +me no da same--have-a none of da luck--noding--nix!" + +"Hard cheese, Tony!" quoth Spike. "But say, have you seen th' Spider +kickin' around?" + +"No, I ain't! But you tell-a da Signorina--" + +"Sure I will--" + +"My lil' Pietro he love-a da Signorina; me, I love-a her--she so good, +so generosa, ah, yes!" And taking off his hat in one hand, Tony kissed +the other and waved it gracefully in the air. + +"Right-o, Tony!" nodded Spike. "You can let it go at that. An' say--this +is me friend Geoff." + +Tony gripped Mr. Ravenslee's hand and shook it. + +"You one o' da bunch--one o' da boys, hey? Good-a luck." So saying, Tony +nodded, flashed his white teeth again, and seizing the handles of his +barrow, trundled off his peanut oven, whistling soft and shrill. + +"Tony's only a guinney," Spike explained as they walked on again. "But +he's white, Geoff--'n' say, he's a holy terror in a mix-up! Totes one o' +them stiletto knives. I've seen him stab down into a glass full of water +an' never spill a drop, which sure wants some doing." + +Evening was falling, and dismal Tenth Avenue was wrapping itself in +shadow, a shadow made more manifest by small lights that burned dismally +in small and dingy shops, a shadow, this, wherein moving shadows jostled +with lounging shoulder or elbow. As they passed a certain dark entry +where divers of these vague shadows lounged, a long arm was stretched +thence, and a large hand gripped Spike's shoulder. + +"Why--hello, Spider," said he, halting. "What's doin'?" + +"Nawthin' much, Kid--only little M--'say, who's wid you?" + +"Oh, this is a friend o' mine--Geoff, dis is d' Spider!" explained +Spike. + +Visualised in "the Spider" Ravenslee saw a tall, slender youth, very +wide in the shoulder and prodigiously long of arm and leg, and who +looked at him keen-eyed from beneath a wide cap brim, while his square +jaws worked with untiring industry upon a wad of chewing gum. + +"Good evening!" said Ravenslee and held out his hand. The Spider ceased +chewing for a moment, nodded, and turning to Spike, chewed fiercer than +ever. + +"Where youse goin', Kid?" he enquired, masticating the while. + +"What was you goin' to tell me, Spider?" demanded Spike, a note of +sudden anxiety in his voice. + +"Nawthin', Kid." + +"Aw--come off, Spider! What was it?" + +The Spider glanced up at the gloomy sky, glanced down at the dingy +pavement, and finally beckoned Spike aside with a quick back-jerk of the +head, and, stooping close, whispered something in his ear--something +that caused the boy to start away with clenched hands and face of +horror, something that seemed to trouble him beyond speech, for he stood +a moment dumb and staring, then found utterance in a sudden, hoarse cry: + +"No--no! It ain't true--oh, my God!" + +And with the cry, Spike turned sharp about and, springing to a run, +vanished into the shadows. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Ravenslee, turning on the Spider. + +"Matter?" repeated that youth, staring at him under his cap brim again; +"well, say--I guess you'd better ask d' Kid." + +"Where's he gone?" + +"How do I know?" + +"It isn't--his sister, is it?" + +"Miss Hermione? Well, I guess not!" So saying, the Spider, chewing +ferociously, turned and vanished down the dark entry with divers other +shadows. + +For a moment Mr. Ravenslee stood where he was, staring uncertainly after +him; presently however he went on toward Mulligan's, though very slowly, +and with black brows creased in frowning perplexity. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CONCERNING ANKLES, STAIRS, AND NEIGHBOURLINESS + + +It was in no very pleasant humour that Geoffrey Ravenslee began to climb +the many stairs (that much-trodden highway) that led up to his new +abode; he climbed them slowly, frowning in a dark perplexity, and wholly +unconscious of the folk that jostled him or paused to stare after him as +he went. + +But presently, and all at once, he became aware of one who climbed half +a flight above him, and, glancing up, he saw a foot in a somewhat worn +shoe, a shapely foot nevertheless, joined to a slender ankle which +peeped and vanished alternately beneath a neat, well-brushed skirt that +swayed to the vigorous action of the shapely limbs it covered. He was +yet observing the soft, rounded curves of this most feminine back when +he became aware of two facts: one, that she bore a heavy suit case in +her neatly gloved hand; two, that the tress of hair peeping rebellious +beneath the neat hat brim was of a wondrous yellow gold. Instantly he +hastened his steps, and reaching out his hand almost instinctively, +sought to relieve her of her burden. + +"Allow me!" said he. + +She stopped, and turning on the stair above, looked down on him with a +pair of wondering blue eyes; her cheeks glowed, and she was panting a +little. For a long moment they fronted each other thus silently upon +that grimy, narrow stair, she above with gracious head stooped, her dark +eyes questioning and wistful. And looking up into the flushed loveliness +of her face, those eyes deep and soft beneath their long, black lashes, +the tender droop of those vivid lips, beholding all this, he knew her to +be a thousand times more beautiful than any photograph could possibly +portray, wherefore he bared his head, and striving to speak, could find +no words to utter. For a moment longer she hesitated while her clear +eyes searched his face, then the red lips curved in a little wistful +smile. + +"Thank you!" she said, and, yielding him her burden, led the way +up-stairs. "I'm afraid it's rather heavy," she said over her shoulder +after they had climbed another flight. + +"It's quite too heavy for you!" he answered. + +"Oh, but I've carried it often before now." + +"Then you shouldn't!" + +"But I have to!" + +"No," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "you should let your brother +bring it up for you." + +"My brother!" she exclaimed, pausing to look her amazement. And again as +she stood thus poised above him, he took joy to note the warmth of her +rich colouring, the soft, round column of her white throat, the gracious +breadth of hip and shoulder. + +"You know I have a brother?" + +"Oh, yes, Spike--er--that is, Arthur and I are quite--er--ancient +cronies--pals, you know--friends, I mean--" Mr. Ravenslee was actually +stammering. + +"Oh, really?" she said softly; but all at once, becoming aware of the +fixity of his regard, the colour deepened in her cheek, the long lashes +drooped and, turning away, she went on up the stair. + +"It's a long way up yet! Hadn't you better let me take it?" + +"Not for worlds!" he answered. + +"Isn't it getting heavier?" she enquired, as they climbed the next +flight. + +"Decidedly heavier!" + +"Then please," said she, slackening her pace, "please let me take it!" + +"On the contrary," he answered, his gaze on her slender foot and ankle, +"I should like to carry it for you all my--er--ah, that is--I mean--" + +Mr. Ravenslee was stammering again. + +"Yes?" + +He was aware that the shapely foot had faltered in its going. + +"As often as I may, Miss Hermione." + +Hereupon the shapely foot halted altogether, and once again she turned +to look at him in wide-eyed surprise. + +"You know my name?" + +"I learned it from Arthur, and--I shall never forget it!" + +"Why not?" + +"Well, because it is rather uncommon and--very beautiful!" + +"Oh!" said Hermione, and went on up the stair again, yet not before he +had seen the flush was back in her cheek. + +"Are you getting tired yet?" she enquired, without looking round. + +"Not appreciably," he answered, "but if you think I need a rest--" + +"No, no!" she laughed, "we should never get off these frightful stairs!" + +"Even that might have its compensations!" he murmured. + +"And we've been much longer than if you'd let me carry it up myself." + +"But then we've no cause for panting haste, have we?" he suggested. + +"And we have four more flights to climb." + +"So few!" he sighed. + +"You see, I live at the very tip-top." + +"Good!" said he. + +At this she glanced down at him over the sweep of her shoulder. + +"Why 'good'?" she demanded. + +"Because I also live at the tip-top." + +"Do you--oh!" + +"With the excellent Mrs. Trapes." + +"But I thought she had lost her lodger?" + +"She had the--er--extreme good fortune to find a new one to-day." + +"Meaning you?" + +"Meaning me." + +By this time they had reached the topmost landing, where Mr. Ravenslee +set down the suit case almost reluctantly. + +"Thank you!" said Hermione, looking at him with her frank gaze. + +"Heaven send I may earn your thanks again--and very soon," he answered, +lifting the battered hat. + +"You didn't tell me your name!" said she, fumbling in a well-worn little +hand bag for her latchkey. + +"I am called Geoffrey." + +Hermione opened the door and, taking up the suit case, held out her +hand. + +"Good-by, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"For the present!" said he, and though his tone was light there was a +very real humility in his attitude as he stood bareheaded before her. +"For the present!" he repeated. + +"Well--we are very near neighbours," said she, dark lashes a-droop. + +"And neighbourliness is next to godliness--isn't it?" + +"Is it?" + +"Well, I think so, anyway? So, Miss Hermione--not 'good-by.'" + +She glanced swiftly up at him, flushed, and turning about, was gone. But +even so, before her door closed quite, she spoke soft-voiced: +"Good--evening, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +Thereafter, for a space, Mr. Ravenslee stood precisely where he was, +staring hard at the battered hat; yet it is not to be supposed that the +sight of this could possibly have brought the smile to his lips, and +into his eyes a look that surely none had ever seen there before--such +a preposterously shabby, disreputable old hat! Of course not! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +OF CANDIES AND CONFIDENCES + + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Trapes, "so you've come? Good land, Mr. Geoffrey, +there's parcels an' packages been a-coming for you constant ever since +you went out! Whatever have you been a-buying of?" And opening the door +of his small bedroom, she indicated divers packages with a saucepan lid +she happened to be holding. + +"Well," said her lodger, seating himself upon the bed, "if I remember +rightly, there are shirts, and socks, and pajamas, and a few other +oddments of the sort. And here, when I can get it out of my pocket, is a +box of candies. I don't know if you are fond of such things, but most of +the sex feminine are, I believe. Pray take them as a mark of +my--er--humble respect!" + +"Candy!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, turning the gaily bedecked box over and +over, and glaring at it fierce-eyed. "Fer me?" + +"If you will deign acceptance." + +"Candy!" she repeated, elbows a-twitch. "Fer me? Land sakes, Mr. +Geoffrey, I--I--" Here, very abruptly, she turned about and vanished +into the kitchen. + +Mr. Ravenslee, lounging upon his white bed, was taking languid stock of +his purchases when Mrs. Trapes suddenly reappeared, clutching a toasting +fork. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," she said, glaring still, "them candies must ha' cost you +a sight o' money?" + +"True, certain monies were expended, Mrs. Trapes." + +"They must ha' cost you well nigh a dollar-fifty, I reckon?" + +"They did!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, smiling. + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, and vanished again. + +Mr. Ravenslee was sighing over a hideously striped shirt when Mrs. +Trapes was back again, flourishing a very large tablespoon. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "it's nigh forty years since any one bought me +a box o' chocolates! An' now they look so cute all done up in them gold +an' silver wrappings as I don't wanter eat 'em--seems a sin, it do. +But--Mr. Geoffrey I--I'd like to--thank ye--" and lo, she was gone +again! + +Mr. Ravenslee had just pitched the striped shirt out of the window when +behold, Mrs. Trapes was back yet once more, this time grasping a much +battered but more bepolished dish cover. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "I ain't good at thankin' folks, no, I ain't +much on gratitood--never having had much to gratify over--but them +candies is goin' to be consoomed slow an' reverent and in a proper +sperrit o' gratitood. And now if you're ready to eat your supper, your +supper's a-waitin' to be ate!" + +So saying, she led the way into the parlour, where upon a snowy cloth, +in a dish tastefully garnished with fried tomatoes, the English mutton +chop reposed, making the very most of itself; the which Mr. Ravenslee +forthwith proceeded to attack with surprising appetite and gusto. + +"Is it tender?" enquired Mrs. Trapes anxiously. "Heaven pity that +butcher if it ain't! Is it tasty, kind of?" + +"It's delicious," nodded her lodger. "Really, Hell's Kitchen seems to +suit me; I eat and sleep like a new man!" + +"So you ain't lived here long, Mr. Geoffrey?" queried Mrs. Trapes, +eagle-eyed. + +"Not long enough to--er--sigh for pastures new. Don't go, Mrs. Trapes, +I love to hear folks talk; sit down and tell me tales of dead kings +and--er--I mean, converse of our neighbours, will you?" + +"I will so, an' thank ye kindly, Mr. Geoffrey, if you don't mind me +sucking a occasional candy?" + +"Pray do, Mrs. Trapes," he said heartily; whereupon, having fetched her +chocolates, Mrs. Trapes ensconced herself in the easy chair and opening +the box, viewed its contents with glistening eyes. + +"You're an Englishman, ain't you?" she enquired after a while, munching +luxuriously. + +"No, but my mother was born in England." + +"You don't say!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes. "So was I--born in the Old Kent +Road, Mr. Geoffrey. I came over to N' York thirty long years ago as cook +general to Hermy Chesterton's ma. When she went and married again, I +left her an' got married myself to Trapes--a foreman, Mr. Geoffrey, with +a noble 'eart as 'ad wooed me long!" Here Mrs. Trapes opened the candy +box again and, after long and careful deliberation, selected a chocolate +with gentle, toil-worn fingers, and putting it in her mouth, sighed her +approbation. "They sure are good!" she murmured. "But talkin' o' Hermy +Chesterton's ma," she went on after a blissful interval, "I been +wondering where you came to meet that b'y Arthur?" + +"Ah, Mrs. Trapes," sighed Ravenslee, leaning back in his chair and +shaking a rueful head, "you touch on gloomy matters. As the story books +say, 'thereby hangs a tale'--the dismal tale of a miserable wretch whose +appetite was bad, whose sleep was worse, and whose temper was worst of +all--oh, a very wretched wretch indeed!" + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, stopping abruptly in the act of +masticating a large chocolate walnut, "so bad as that, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Worse!" he nodded gloomily. "It is indeed a gloomy tale, a tale dark +and dismal that I love not the telling of, for, Mrs. Trapes, that more +than hopeless wretch stands, or rather sits, before you!" + +"Save us!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, "meanin' yourself?" + +"My unworthy self!" + +"Lord!" she whispered, "what you been a-doin' of?" + +"Wasting a promising life, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"You mean," she questioned in a harsh whisper, "you mean as +you've--killed some one--accidental?" + +"Oh, no, the life was mine own, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey, you give me quite a turn! Y' see, sometimes +folks gets theirselves killed around here--an' it's always +accidental--sure!" and Mrs. Trapes nodded meaningly and went on chewing. +"But say," she demanded, suddenly sharp of eye, "where does Arthur come +in?" + +"Arthur comes in right here, Mrs. Trapes! In fact, Arthur broke into +my--er--life just when things were at their darkest generally. Arthur +found me very depressed and gloomy. Arthur taught me that life might yet +have its uses. Arthur lifted me out of the Slough of Despond. Arthur +brought me--to you! And behold! life is good and perchance shall be even +better if--ah yes, if! So you see, my dear Mrs. Trapes, Arthur has done +much for me, consequently I have much to thank Arthur for. Indeed, I +look upon Arthur--" + +"Shucks!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "that'll be about enough about +Arthur--Arthur, indeed! You oughter know his sister!" Now at this her +lodger started and glanced at her so suddenly, and with eyes so +unexpectedly keen that once again she suspended mastication. + +"Now, in the name of all that's wonderful, Mrs. Trapes, why mention +her?" + +"Why, because she's worth knowin'! Because she's the best, the bravest, +the sweetest thing that ever went in petticoats. She's beautiful inside +and out--mind, I've nursed her in these arms years ago an' I know +she's--oh, well, you ought to meet Hermy!" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I have!" + +"Eh? You have? My lan'!" Mrs. Trapes bolted a caramel in her +astonishment and thereafter stared at Ravenslee with watering eyes. "An' +you to set there an' never tell me!" quoth she, "an' Hermy never told +me--well, well! When did ye meet her? Whereabouts? How?" + +"About half an hour ago! Coming up the stairs! I carried her grip!" + +"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, staring, "well, well!" and she continued +to munch candy and to stare and say "well!" at intervals until arrested +by a new thought. "That b'y!" she exclaimed. "Was Arthur with her?" + +"No," answered Ravenslee, wrinkling his brows, "I lost him on my way +home." + +Mrs. Trapes sighed and shook her head. + +"The sun sure rises and sets for her in that b'y--an' him only her +stepbrother at that!" + +"Her stepbrother?" + +"Yes!" nodded Mrs. Trapes emphatically. "Hermy's ma were a lady, same as +Hermy is; so were her pa, I mean a gentleman, of course. But Hermy's +father died, an' then her ma, poor soul, goes an' marries a good-lookin' +loafer way beneath her, a man as weren't fit to black her shoes, let +alone take 'em off! And Arthur's his father's child. Oh, a good enough +b'y as b'ys go, but wild, now and then, and rough, like his dad." + +"I see!" nodded her hearer, thoughtfully. + +"Now me, though married ten long year, never 'ad no children, so ever +since Hermy's mother died, I've tried to watch over her and help her +as much as I could. She's had a mighty hard struggle, one thing and +another, Mr. Geoffrey, an' now I've known her an' loved her so long it +kind o' seems as if she belonged to me--almost!" + +"She looks very good and--brave!" said Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Good!" cried Mrs. Trapes, and snorted. "I tell you she's jest a angel +o' light, Mr. Geoffrey. If you'd seen her, like I have, goin' from one +poor little sick child to another, kissing their little hot faces, +tellin' 'em stories, payin' for doctor's stuff out of her bit o' +savings, mendin' their clo'es--an' prayin' over 'em when they +died--why--I guess you'd think she was a angel too! One sure thing," +said Mrs. Trapes rising, "there ain't a breathin' man in all this whole +round earth as is fit to go down on 'is knees an' kiss 'er little +foot--not a one! No, sir!" + +"No, I don't think there is!" said Mr. Ravenslee slowly. + +"As for that Bud M'Ginnis," cried Mrs. Trapes, seizing on the coffee-pot +much as if it had been that gentleman's throat, "I'd--I'd like to--bat +him one as would quiet him for keeps--I would so!" and she jerked the +coffee-pot fiercely, much to the detriment of her snowy tablecloth. +"There! now see what I done, but I do get all worked up over that +loafer!" + +"Pray why?" + +"Why?" snorted Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Hasn't he made eyes at her ever +since they was kids together? Hasn't he worried and worried at her, an' +because she won't look at him if she can help it, don't he try to get +back at her through that b'y--" + +"How does he?" + +"How? By puttin' him up to fightin' an' all sorts o' devilment, by +teachin' him to be tough, by gettin' him drunk--" + +"Oh, does he?" + +"Why, bless ye, Bud M'Ginnis can do anything with him!" + +"How so?" + +"Because Arthur jest worships M'Ginnis for his strength and toughness!" + +"I see!" + +"Yes, Arthur thinks there's nobody in the world could lick Bud +M'Ginnis." + +"Hum! May I smoke, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Sure ye may!" she nodded, and began to collect the supper things. "I +tell you what," she exclaimed suddenly, flourishing the fork she had +just taken up, "if somebody would only come along an' thrash M'Ginnis, +thrash him good, it would be a sight better for every one around +here--it would so! M'Ginnis is always makin' trouble for some one or +other, an' there ain't a man big enough or got heart enough to stand up +to him--not even Spider Connolly. Wish I was a man, that's all--just for +an hour! Ah!" Here Mrs. Trapes snorted fiercer than usual, and the jut +of her elbows was deadly. + +"And he gets Arthur drunk, does he!" said Ravenslee, puffing dreamily at +his pipe. + +"Yes!" sighed Mrs. Trapes as she loaded a tray with the supper things. +"Hermy's seen him drunk twice, to my knowing, an' I thought it would +break her 'eart, poor dear! Y' see, Mr. Geoffrey, his father died o' the +drink, an' she's frightened for fear Arthur should go the same road. Oh, +Hermy's life ain't all ice-cream sodas an' lollipops, not much it ain't, +poor, brave, beautiful thing!" + +Saying which, Mrs. Trapes, sighing again, took up her tray; Mr. +Ravenslee, having opened the door for her, closed it again, lighted his +pipe, and sinking into the easy-chair, fell into frowning thought. + +The windows were open, and from the crowded court below rose the shrill +babel of many children's voices, elfin shrieks and cries accompanied by +the jingle of a barrel-organ, very wiry and very much out of tune; but +Ravenslee, deep-plunged in thought, heard nought of it nor heeded the +fact that the pipe, tight-clenched between his strong, white teeth, was +out. For Geoffrey Ravenslee had set himself a problem. + +The barrel-organ ceased its jangle, the children's voices were gradually +hushed, as, one by one, they were called in by hoarse-voiced mothers and +led away to bed; and the gloomy court grew ever gloomier as evening +deepened into night. But still Mr. Ravenslee lounged in the easy-chair, +so motionless that he might have been asleep except for the grim set of +his jaw and the bright, wide-open eyes of him. + +At last, and suddenly, he sat erect, for he had heard a voice whose soft +murmur he recognised even through the closed door. + +"I don't know, Hermy dear," came in Mrs. Trapes' harsh tones, "I'm +afraid he's gone to bed--anyway, I'll see!" Ensued a knocking of bony +knuckles and, opening the door, Ravenslee beheld Mrs. Trapes. Behind her +stood Hermione, and in her eyes he saw again that look of wistful, +anxious fear he had wondered over at the first. + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey," said Mrs. Trapes, "it's eleven o'clock, an' that b'y +ain't in yet. Here's Hermy been out hunting the streets for him and +ain't found him. Consequently she's worriting herself sick over +him--drat 'im!" + +"Out on the streets!" repeated Ravenslee. "Alone?" + +"Yes," answered Hermione, "I had to--try and find him." + +"But alone! And at this hour! Miss Hermione, that was surely +very--er--unwise of you." + +"Yes, you see I didn't know where to look," she sighed. "I've been to +the saloon but he wasn't there--" + +"The saloon? Good Lord!" exclaimed Ravenslee, his placidity quite +forgotten, his face set and stern. "That is no place for you--or any +girl--" + +"I must go to find Arthur," she said softly. + +"No, not there--even for that." + +"Why not?" + +"Think of the--the risks you run! No girl should take such chances." + +"Oh, you mean--that!" said Hermione, meeting his eyes with her frank +glance. "But no one would try to insult me hereabouts; this isn't +Broadway or Fifth Avenue, Mr. Geoffrey!" and she smiled a very sad, +weary little smile. "But I came to ask if you happened to know where +Arthur is or--whom he was with?" + +"Wasn't wid that Bud M'Ginnis, was he?" questioned Mrs. Trapes sharply. + +"No, he wasn't with M'Ginnis," answered Mr. Ravenslee, in frowning +perplexity, "but that's about all I can tell you." + +"Thank you," sighed the girl, "I must go and try again. I know I shall +find him--soon." But, though she tried to speak in a tone of cheerful +confidence, her shapely head drooped rather hopelessly. + +"You mean you are going out on to the--to look for him again?" + +"Why, of course," she answered, "I must find Arthur!" + +"Don't, Hermy, don't--so pale an' tired as you are, don't go again!" +pleaded Mrs. Trapes, her usual sharpness transfigured into a deep and +yearning tenderness; even her voice seemed to lose something of its +harshness. "Don't worry, my sweet, the b'y'll find his way home right +enough, like he did last time." + +"Like--last time!" cried Hermione, and shivering, she leaned against the +wall as if she were faint. "Ah, no, no!" she whispered, "not--like last +time!" and bowing her head she hid her face in her hands. + +Close, close about that quivering form came two motherly arms, and Mrs. +Trapes fell to passionate invective and tender soothing, thus: + +"There, there, my love--my pretty, don't remember that last time! Oh, +drat my fool's tongue for remindin' you, drat it, my dear, my honey! Ah, +don't go breakin' your angel's 'eart along of Arthur, my precious--and +drat him too! That b'y'll come back all right, he will--he will, I know +he will. Oh, if I was only behind 'im with a toasting fork! There, +there, Hermy dear, don't fret, Arthur'll come home all right. My honey, +you're all tuckered out, an' here it's gettin' on to midnight, an' you +to go to Englewood by the early car! Go to bed, dear, an' I'll sit up +for Arthur. Only don't cry, Hermy--" + +"Oh, I'm not crying, dear," said Hermione, lifting her head. "See, I +haven't shed a tear! But I must find Arthur. I couldn't rest or sleep; +I should lie listening for his step. So you see, dear, I must go out and +find him!" + +Hereupon, with swift, dexterous fingers, Hermione straightened the very +neat hat which the embrace of Mrs. Trapes had rendered somewhat askew, +and, turning to the door, came face to face with Mr. Ravenslee, and in +his hand she beheld his battered hat, but she did not notice how +fiercely his powerful fingers gripped it. + +"Miss Hermione," said he, in his soft, indolent voice, and regarding +her beneath languidly drooping lids, "pray accept the hospitality of +my--er--apartment. You will find the easy-chair is very easy, and while +you sit here with Mrs. Trapes, I'll find your brother and bring him here +to you." + +"Thank you," she answered a little shortly because of his lazy tone or +his sleepy eyes, or his general languid air, or all of them together. +"Thank you, but I'm going myself; I must go, I--I couldn't wait--" + +"Oh, but really you must, you know!" + +"Must?" she repeated, looking her surprise. + +"Ab-solutely must!" he answered softly, nodding so sleepily that she +almost expected him to yawn. "You really can't go out again to-night, +you know," he added. Hermione's blue eyes flashed, her delicate brows +knit themselves, and Mr. Ravenslee saw that she was taller than he had +thought. + +"You mean you will--try to stop me?" she demanded. + +"No, I mean that I--will stop you!" + +"But you'd never dare--" + +"I would dare even your anger in so good a cause. Ah, please don't be +angry with me, Miss Hermione, because--" and here his sleepy voice grew +positively slumberous, "you shall not go out into the streets again +to-night!" + +"Ah, an' that's right too, Mr. Geoffrey!" cried Mrs. Trapes. "Hermy +needs some one strong enough to master her now an' then, she is that +wilful, she is so!" + +But now all at once, as he watched, Hermione's eyes filled with great, +slow-gathering tears, her firm-set lips grew soft and quivered +pitifully, and she sank down in the easy-chair, her golden head bowed +upon the green and yellow tablecloth. The battered hat tumbled to the +floor, and striding forward, he had bent and caught one of her listless +hands all in a moment, and thereafter, though it struggled feebly once, +he held it closely prisoned in his own. + +"Oh, don't!" he pleaded, his words coming quick and eager, "don't do +that! Do you think I can't see that you're all overwrought? How can I +let you go tramping out there in the streets again? You couldn't go--you +mustn't go! Stay here with good Mrs. Trapes, I beg of you, and I swear +I'll bring Arthur to you! Only you must promise me to wait here and be +patient, however long I am--you must promise, Hermione!" + +She lifted her heavy head and looked at him through her tears. And +surely, surely in the face that bent above her was none of indolence or +languor. These lips were firm now and close-set, these lazy eyes were +wide and bright, and in them that which brought the warm colour to her +cheeks; but reverence was there also, wherefore she met his look, and +her fingers were not withdrawn from his until she had answered: "I +promise!" + +"That's my wise dearie!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "And good luck to ye, Mr. +Geoffrey, an' when you find that b'y, say as I wish--ah, how I wish I +was back of him with a toasting fork, that's all!" + +Mr. Ravenslee caught up the shabby hat, opened the door, and going out, +closed it softly behind him. + +"Hermy," said Mrs. Trapes, clasping the girl's slender waist in her long +arm and leading her into the brightest of bright little kitchens, "I +like that young feller--who he is I don't know, what he does I don't +know, but what he is I do know, an' that's--a man, my dear! An' he +called you--Hermione! Sounds kind o' pretty the way he says it, don't +you think?" But Hermione didn't answer. + +Meanwhile Mr. Ravenslee, descending the monotonous stairs, paused +suddenly to smile and to clap hand to thigh. + +"A toasting fork!" said he, "a toasting fork is an instrument +possessing three or more sharp points! Ha! Mrs. Trapes is a woman of +singularly apposite ideas." And he smiled a little grimly as he went on +down the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +WHICH RECOUNTS THE END OF AN EPISODE + + +Midway down he beheld two burly policemen who mounted, one behind the +other, their grey helmets, blue coats, and silver buttons seeming to +fill the narrow stairway. + +"Anything wrong?" he enquired, as they drew level. + +"Not wid you dis time, bo!" answered one, blandly contemptuous, and +strode on up the stair, twirling his club in practised hand, his fellow +officer at his heels. + +Thus rebuked, Mr. Ravenslee looked after them with quick-drawn brows +until, remembering his broken hat brim and shabby clothes, he smiled and +went upon his way. Reaching the dingy lower hall he beheld the solitary +gas-jet flare whose feeble light showed five lounging forms, rough +fellows who talked together in hoarse murmurs and with heads close +together. + +He was passing by, when, in one of these deep-throated talkers, he +recognised the long limbs and wide, sloping shoulders of the Spider. Mr. +Ravenslee paused and nodded. + +"Good evening!" said he, but this time kept his hands in his pockets. +The Spider eyed him somewhat askance, shifted his wad of chewing gum +from one cheek to the other, and spoke. + +"'Lo!" said he. + +"Do you know where Spike is?" + +"S'pose I do--then what?" demanded the Spider with a truculent lurch of +his wide shoulders. + +"Then I shall ask you to tell me where I can find him--or better still, +you might show me." + +"Oh, might I?" + +"You might!" + +The feelings of the Spider waxing beyond mere words, he looked at the +speaker, viewed him up and down with a glance of contemptuous hostility, +whereat Ravenslee's whole expression melted into one of lamblike +meekness. + +"Say," quoth the Spider at last, "there's only one thing as I can't +stand about you, an' that's--everything!" + +"Sorry for that," murmured Ravenslee, "because I rather like you, +Spider. I think you could be quite a decent fellow if you tried very +hard! Come, shake your grouch and let's be friends." + +"Say," growled the Spider, "what you're sufferin' from's a hard neck! +You ain't no friend o' mine--not much you ain't, savvy? So crank up an' +get on yer way like a good little feller!" + +"But you see I'm anxious to find Spike because--" + +"Well, say, you keep on bein' anxious, only do it somewheres else. I +don't want youse around where I am, see? So beat it while d' goin's +good!" + +"Why--er--no," said Ravenslee in his laziest tones, "no, I don't think +I'll beat it. I guess I'll stay right here and wait until you are so +kind, so--er--very kind and obliging as to show me where I can find +Spike." And he sighed plaintively as he lounged against the wall behind, +but his eyes were surprisingly bright and quick beneath the shadow of +the battered hat. + +"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, expectorating contemptuously, "hark +to the flossy-boy, fellers! Aw, run away, now!" said he, scowling +suddenly, "run away before ye get slapped on th' wrist!" and, while +divers of his companions laughed hoarsely, he turned a contemptuous back +on Mr. Ravenslee. But even then he was seized in iron fingers that +clutched his shoulder and, in that painful grip, was jerked suddenly +around again to behold a face vicious-eyed, thin-lipped, square-jawed, +fiercely outthrust. Recognising the "fighting-face", the Spider, being +a fighter of a large and varied experience, immediately "covered up", +and fell into that famous crouch of his that had proved the undoing of +so many doughty fighters ere now. Then, like a flash, his long arm shot +out, but in that same instant, Ravenslee, timing the blow to a fraction, +moved slightly, and the Spider's knuckles bruised themselves against the +wall at the precise moment that Ravenslee's open hand flipped lightly on +the side of the Spider's square, lean jaw. + +The Spider drew back, staring from Ravenslee's tall, alert figure to his +bruised knuckles and back again, while his companions stood by in mute +and wide-eyed wonder. + +"Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head in grave reproof, "you were +rather slow that time--very foolish to leave your point uncovered and +offer me your jaw like that, you know!" + +Five pairs of eyes stared at the speaker with a new and suddenly +awakened interest, and beholding in him that lithe assurance of poise, +that indefinable air that bespeaks the trained pugilist and which cannot +be mistaken, elbows were nudged, and heads wagged knowingly. + +Ravenslee's grey eyes were shining, and his pale cheeks tinged with +colour. + +"Ah, Spider," said he, "life is rather worth while after all, isn't it? +Spider, I like you better and better; come, don't be a surly Spider, +shake hands!" + +"T' hell wid youse!" growled the Spider, covering up again, and, though +his face was sulky yet was no trace of contempt there now. + +"I suppose," mused Ravenslee, looking him over with knowledgeful eye, +"yes, I judge, as you are now, you would fight about seven or eight +pounds over your ringside weight. You'd have to give me eighteen pounds! +Spider--I could eat you! Come, shake hands and let's go and fetch +Spike." + +Now, speaking, Ravenslee smiled, with eyes as well as lips; beholding +which, the Spider grew slowly upright, his knotted fists unclenched, +and, staring Ravenslee in the eyes, he reached out slowly and by +degrees and grasped the proffered hand. + +"Say," said he, falling to violent mastication of his eternal chewing +gum, "who'd you have d'mitts on with last--an' when?" + +"Oh, it seems ages ago!" sighed Ravenslee. "But where's Spike?" + +"Say, bo, who wants him, an' whaffor? Spike's me pal, see, so I jest +shore wants ter savvy who wants him an' why?" + +"His sister--" + +"Hully Chee! Why didn't youse say so at first? When Miss Hermione wants +anything she's gotta have it, I guess! Ain't that right, fellers?" + +"You bet," chimed the four. + +"So if she wants d' Kid, I guess I'll jest have to fetch him for her. +Come on, bo! S'long, fellers!" + +Hereupon, having acknowledged the friendly salutes of the four, +Ravenslee followed the Spider out into the court, empty now and silent. + +"Say, bo, where'd you meet up wid Spike, anyway?" enquired the Spider, +as they strode along Tenth Avenue. "You don't belong around here, do +ye?" + +"No. Do you know where he was last night?" + +"You can search me, bo. All I savvy is he was off on some frame-up or +other." + +"Who with?" + +"Well--not wid me." + +"Did you see any one with him besides M'Ginnis at O'Rourke's?" + +"No, there was only them two." + +"Ah, I guessed as much," said Ravenslee, nodding; "he went away with +M'Ginnis--good!" + +"Say, bo," questioned the Spider when they had gone some way in silence, +"I ain't seen you fight anywheres, have I?" + +"No, but I've seen you, Spider, I saw you beat Larry McKinnon at +'Frisco." + +"Which sure was some fight!" nodded the Spider. "Them half-arm jolts of +his sure shook me some; he'd have got me in th' third if I hadn't +clinched." + +"He was a terror at in-fighting." + +"He sure was, bo!" + +"It was your jabbing and footwork won you the fight, Spider, one of the +best I've ever seen--very little clinching and clean breakaways." + +"Larry sure was game all through, yes--right up to the knock-out. A +good, clean fighter. 'N' say, bo, I was real sorry to see him counted +out." + +"It meant a big purse for you, I remember." + +"Oh, sure, I had money to burn. I ain't got much left now, though," said +the Spider ruefully. + +"You came pretty near being a world's champion, Spider." + +"Aw--jest near enough t' miss it, I guess. Talkin' o' champeens, the +greatest of 'em, th' best fightin' man as ever swung a mitt, I reckon +was Joe Madden, as retired years ago. Nobody could ever lick Joe +Madden." + +"Did you know him?" + +"Not me, bo, I wasn't in his class. But I seen him fight years ago." + +"Do you think Spike will ever make a champion?" enquired Ravenslee +suddenly. "I mean if he were given every chance?" + +"Well," answered the Spider slowly, "he sure has the grit; ther ain't +nothin' on two legs he's afraid of except--himself, bo. He's too +high-strung. Nerves is his trouble, I reckon. Why, Chee! When he's in d' +ring he can't be still a minute, can't let himself rest between rounds, +see? He kinder beats himself, I guess." + +"I know what you mean," nodded Ravenslee, "and I'm sure you're right. +By the way, have you ever seen M'Ginnis fight?" + +"I seen him scrap once or twice--he's sure ugly in a rough-house, but in +th' ring--well, I dunno!" + +"Has he a punch?" + +"Bo, he's got a sleep-pill in each mitt if--if he can land his wallop +right! Yes, siree, if Bud can hit a guy where it'll do most good, that +guy's sure goin' to forget his cares an' troubles for a bit. But he's +slow an' heavy, Bud is, though I ain't never seen him mix it in th' +ring, mind." + +"H'm," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "M'Ginnis seems to have it all his +own way around here--why?" + +"Well, because Bud's Bud, an' because Bud's old man is a Tammany +boss--which gives Bud a big pull wid d' police. 'Nuff said, I guess." + +"Quite!" nodded Ravenslee, and walked thereafter deeper in thought than +ever. "Where are you taking me?" he enquired, as they turned a sudden +corner. + +"To d' river!" + +"This is Eleventh Avenue, then?" + +"Yep! Watch out you don't trip on d' railroad tracks." And now the +Spider seemed to have become thoughtful also, and somewhat gloomy, +judging by his face as seen by an occasional feeble light as they +traversed the unlovely thoroughfare. + +"Bo," said he suddenly, "I'm thinkin' there's some guys in this world as +would be better out of it. I'm thinkin' of some guy as got a little girl +into trouble--an' left her to it. Her kid died, an' her folks turned her +out, an' she'd have died too, I guess, if it hadn't been for Miss +Hermione an' old Mother Trapes--ye see, she was all alone, poor little +kid! Now a man as would treat a girl that ways ain't got no right t' +live, I reckon. I should like t' know who that guy was! I should like +t' meet that guy--once!" + +After this the Spider became more gloomy than ever and spoke only in +surly monosyllables. Suddenly he turned off along a narrow, ill-lighted +alleyway that led them between divers small mean houses and tall, dark +warehouses and brought them suddenly out upon the misty foreshore beyond +which the dim and mighty river flowed. On they went, the Spider's +depression growing perceptibly, until at last their feet trod the rough +planking of a narrow causeway which ended in a dark, raft-like structure +moored out in the river. Here was a small and dismal shack from whose +solitary window a feeble ray of light beamed. + +Ravenslee shivered suddenly and stopped to stare about him while his +listless hands changed to tight-clenched fists. + +What was it? + +What was there about this dismal, silent place that seemed to leap at +him all at once from the dimness, he knew not whence? Was it the shack +with its solitary light, or the broad river lapping with soft sighings +and low weeping sounds among the piles below, or was it something in the +altered aspect of the guiding figure that led him forward, slow and ever +slower, as if with dragging feet, and yet with feet that trod so softly? + +"Spider," said he at last, speaking in hushed and breathless manner, +"Spider--where are we?" and speaking he shivered again, even while his +clenched hand wiped the sweat from his brow. The Spider made no answer, +for the feeble light was blotted out by a very solid something which, +approaching softly, resolved itself into a burly, blue-clad form whose +silver buttons and shield showed conspicuous. + +"What's doin'!" demanded a voice. "Who is it?" The voice was hoarse and +authoritative, but the gruff tones were schooled, it seemed, to an +almost unnatural softness. + +"'S all right, Micky," answered the Spider in the same subdued tone, +"it's only me come for d' Kid." + +"Who you got wid you there, Spider?" + +"A pal o' mine an' d' Kid's--he's all right, Mick!" Then to Ravenslee: +"Come on, bo!" Slowly they approached the shack, but, reaching the door, +the Spider hesitated a long moment ere, lifting the latch, he led the +way in. + +A fairly large room was lighted by a lamp that stood upon a rickety +table before which sat a young-faced, white-haired man, very +industriously writing in a small account book; upon the table before +him were a number of articles very neatly arranged, among which +Ravenslee noticed a cheap wrist-watch, a hair-comb, a brooch, and a +small chain purse. He was yet gazing at these and at the white-haired +man, who, having nodded once to the Spider, continued to write so +busily, when he was startled to hear a long-drawn, shuddering sigh. +Turning suddenly sharp about, he stared toward a dark corner where, +among a litter of oars, misshapen bundles, boxes, and odds and ends, was +a small stove, and, crouched above it, his head between his hands, he +beheld Spike. + +With the same instinctive feeling that he must be silent, Ravenslee +approached the boy and touched him on the shoulder. Spike started and +glanced up, though without lifting his head. + +"Your sister is anxious about you. Why are you here?" + +"Don't you know, Geoff? Ain't no one told ye?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I'll show ye!" + +The boy took a hurricane lamp from the floor beside him, and, having +lighted it, brought Ravenslee further into that littered corner where, +among the boxes and bundles and other oddments, lay what seemed to be +two or three oars covered with a worn tarpaulin. + +"Look, Geoff--you remember--only this morning!" Very gently he raised a +corner of the tarpaulin and as he looked down, Ravenslee's breath caught +suddenly. + +A woman's face, very young and very placid-seeming! The long, dark hair +framing the waxen features still oozed drops of water like great, +slow-falling tears; and beholding this pale, still face, Ravenslee knew +why he had shivered and hushed voice and step, and instinctively he +bowed his uncovered head. + +"You remember Maggie Finlay, Geoff, this morning, on the stairs? +She--she kissed me good-by, said she was goin' away; this is what she +meant--the river, Geoff! She's drowned herself, Geoff! Oh, my God!" +and letting fall the tarpaulin, Spike was shaken suddenly by fierce +hysterical sobbing; whereat the man, looking up from his writing, spoke +harsh-voiced. + +"Aw, quit it, Kid, quit it! Here I've just wrote down three rings, +and she's only got one, an' that a cheap fake. Shut up, Kid, you'll +make me drop blots next! Cut it out, it ain't as if she was your +sister--" Hereupon Spike started and lifted a twitching face. + +"My sister!" he repeated, "my sister--whatcher mean? My God, Chip, +Hermy could never--come to--that!" And shivering violently, Spike turned +and stumbled out of the shack. Once outside, Ravenslee set his long arm +about him and felt the lad still trembling violently. + +"Why, Spike!" said he, "buck up, old fellow!" + +"Oh, Geoff, Hermy could never--" + +"No, no--of course not!" So very silently, together and side by side, +they crossed the narrow causeway. + +"Gee, but I'm cold!" said the boy between chattering teeth as they +turned along the wide avenue, "I--I guess it's shook me some, Geoff. +Y' see, I used to go to school with Maggie once--and now--" + +Reaching Mulligan's at last, they beheld numerous groups of whispering +folk who thronged the little court, the doorway, and the hall beyond; +they whispered together upon the stairs and murmured on dim landings. +But as Ravenslee and Spike, making their way through these groups, +mounted upward, they found one landing very silent and deserted, a +landing where was a certain battered door whose dingy panels had been +wetted with the tears of a woman's agony, had felt the yearning, +heartbroken passion of a woman's quivering lips such a very few hours +ago. Remembering which, Geoffrey Ravenslee, turning to look at this +grimy door, beheld it vague and blurred and indistinct as he turned and +climbed that much-trodden stair. + +Upon the top landing they found Mrs. Trapes, who leaned over the rails +to greet them. + +"So you found that b'y, Mr. Geoffrey. Hermy'll be glad. You'll have +heard of poor little Maggie Finlay? Poor lass--poor, lonely lass! 'T was +her father drove her to it, an' now he's had a fit--a stroke, the +doctor's with him now--an' Hermy, of course! She's always around where +trouble is. I guess there won't be much rest for her to-night--long past +midnight now! I'm glad you found that b'y. I said you would. I'll jest +go down and tell Hermy; she'll be glad." + +Spike stood awhile after Mrs. Trapes had gone down-stairs, very silent +and with head a-droop, then, slow and heavily, turned and opened his +door, but paused to speak over his shoulder in a hoarse whisper. + +"Geoff--if ever--any man--made my sister go through what Maggie Finlay +went through--I'd--shoot him dead--by God in Heaven, I would!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +TELLS HOW MR. RAVENSLEE WENT INTO TRADE + + +It was a week later, and Mr. Ravenslee leaned from the window of his +room to observe the view, which consisted chiefly of dingy brick walls +and dingier windows, swaying vistas of clothes in various stages of +dampness, clothes that fluttered from many lines stretched across the +court, from window to window, at different altitudes; for to-day it had +been washing day in Mulligan's; also the evening was warm. + +So Mr. Ravenslee lounged and smoked and gazed upon the many garments, +viewing them with eyes of reverie. Garments, these, of every size and +hue and shape and for either sex, garments that writhed and contorted +themselves in fantastic dances when gently stirred by a small, cool wind +which, wafting across the river from the green New Jersey shore, +breathed faintly of pine woods. + +He was yet in absorbed contemplation of the aerial gambols of these many +garments when to him came Mrs. Trapes, clutching a hot iron. + +"Mr. Geoffrey, what'll you eat for supper?" she demanded. + +"Mrs. Trapes, what do you suppose I'm worthy of?" + +"How about a lovely piece o' liver?" + +"Liver!" he repeated, rubbing a square, smooth-shaven chin. "Hum! liver +sounds a trifle clammy, doesn't it? Clammy and cold, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Cold?" said she, staring, "cold--of course not! It would be nice an' +hot, with thick gravy an' a tater or so. An' as for clammy, who ever +heard o' liver as wasn't? Calves' liver, mind! They can't put me off +with sheep's--no, siree! Skudder's young man tried to once--he did so!" + +"Foolish, foolhardy young man!" murmured Ravenslee. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," sighed Mrs. Trapes, and her elbows were particularly +needle-like, "I jest took that piece o' sheep's liver an' wrapped it +round that young man's face." + +"Unhappy young man!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Y' see, Mr. Geoffrey, though a widder an' therefore lorn, I ain't to be +trod on in the matter of livers, or anything else!" + +"I'm sure of it, Mrs. Trapes." + +"But if you don't kind of fancy liver, how about sassiges? Sassiges is +tasty an' filling, an' cheap. What d' ye say to sassiges?" + +"Sausages," answered Mr. Ravenslee, shaking grave head, "sausages demand +such unbounded faith in the--er--sausagee--or should it be sausage-or?" + +"Oh, well--a chop, cut thick an' with a kidney in it--what d' ye say to +a chop, now?" + +"No, a chop in an hour, Mrs. Trapes, or say, two hours, will be most +welcome. Are you very busy?" + +"Washing's all done, but there's a lot o' your shirts waiting to be +ironed--an' me here, lettin' me iron get cold!" + +"Oh, never mind the shirts, Mrs. Trapes! Pray sit down; I need your +counsel and advice." + +"But me iron?" + +"Give it to me--there!" and Mr. Ravenslee deposited it outside on the +fire escape. + +"Now Mrs. Trapes," said he, "first of all, I must find work. 'Man is +born to labour, as the sparks fly upward,' you know." + +"Born to sorrer, you mean!" she corrected. + +"Precisely," he nodded, "work is sorrow, and sorrow is work--at least, +I know a good many people who think so." + +"More fools them!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, folding her arms. + +"My own idea exactly!" he answered, lazily tapping out his pipe on the +window sill. + +"I ain't noticed you sweating none, lately!" quoth Mrs. Trapes +sarcastically. + +"Alas, no, Mrs. Trapes, there being no wherefore to call forth the +aforesaid--er--moisture. Still, 'man is as grass that withereth' unless +he 'goeth forth unto his labour.'" + +"An' quite right too!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "If I had my way I'd make 'em +all work!" + +"That would be rather hard on our legislators and Fifth Avenue parsons, +wouldn't it? Anyway, I want work, that's sure!" + +"Y' mean as your money's all gone?" + +"Very nearly," sighed Mr. Ravenslee with a suitable air of dejection. +And he did it so well that Mrs. Trapes, viewing him askance, frowned, +bit her lip, wriggled her elbows, and finally spoke. + +"Are ye up against it good, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"I am!" + +"Well," said she, frowning down at the vivid-coloured hearthrug, "I got +twenty-five dollars put away as I've pinched and scrinched to save, but +if you want the loan of 'em, you can have 'em an' welcome." + +Her lodger was silent; indeed, he was so long in answering that at last +Mrs. Trapes looked up, to find him regarding her with a very strange +expression. + +"And you will lend me your savings?" he asked her softly. + +"Sure I will!" And she would have risen then and there but that he +stayed her. + +"God bless you for a generous soul!" said he, and laughed rather +queerly; also his grey eyes were a little brighter than usual. "Why +should you trust me so far?" + +"Well, you look honest, I guess. An' then we all help each other in +Mulligan's now an' then, one way or another; we jest have to. There's +Mrs. Bowker, third floor--the tea an' sugar as I've loaned that +woman--an' last week a lovely beef-bone! Well, there! But if you want +the loan of that twenty-five--" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I don't. Things aren't so desperate as that yet. All I +need is a job of some sort." + +"What kind o' job?" + +"I'm not particular." + +"Well--what have you been used to?" + +"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, hitherto I have lived a life of--er--riotous ease!" + +"That means as you ain't worked at all, I guess. Hm!" said Mrs. Trapes, +viewing him with her sharp, hawk's eye, "and yet you ain't got the look +of a confidence man nor yet a swell crook, consequently I take it you +was the only son of your father an' lost all he left you, eh?" + +"Mrs. Trapes, you are a truly wonderful woman!" + +"T' be born the only son of a rich father is a pretty bad disease, I +reckon!" she continued, "yes, siree, it's bad for the child an' worse +for the man; it's bound to be his ruination in the end--like drink! And +talkin' o' drink, I'm glad to see that b'y Arthur's so fond o' you." + +"Oh, why?" + +"Because you don't drink." + +"Well, I don't go to bed in my boots, do I, Mrs. Trapes? But then I +promised you I wouldn't, and, for another thing, I'm not a poet, you +see," said he and yawned lazily. + +"Hermy says she's glad too." + +Mr. Ravenslee cut short his yawn in the middle. + +"Hermione? Did she say so? When?" + +"Ah, I guessed that would wake ye up a bit!" said Mrs. Trapes, noting +his suddenly eager look. "It's a pity you're so poor, ain't it?" + +"Why? What do you mean?" + +"I mean if you had been in a good situation an' making good +money--twenty-five per, say--you might have asked her." + +"Asked her?" repeated Ravenslee, staring, "asked her what?" + +"Why, t' marry you, o' course," nodded Mrs. Trapes. "You love her about +as much as any man can love--which is sometimes a thimbleful an' +sometimes a bit more--but you sure love her as much as a man knows how, +I guess. An' don't try for ter deny it, Mr. Geoffrey, I ain't blind, +leastways I can see a bit out o' one eye sometimes--specially where +Hermy's concerned, I can so. Of course, you ain't worthy of her--but +then no man is, to my mind!" + +"No, I'm not worthy of her, God knows!" said Ravenslee, quite humbly. + +"An' Hermy's goin' to marry a man with money. Her heart's set on +it--firm!" + +"Money!" said Ravenslee, scowling. "She seems anything but mercenary." + +"Mercenary!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "I should say not! I tell ye, she could +be a-rollin' around in a six-thousand-dollar automobile at this very +hour if she was that kind. With her face an' figure! She could so!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean as there's men--rich men, an' married too--as is mad after +her--" + +"Ah!" said Ravenslee, frowning again. + +"You may well say 'ah!'" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Men is all beasts more or +less! Why, I could tell you things--well, there! Hermy ain't no innocent +babe but there's some things better than innocence an' that's a +chin--will-power, Mr. Geoffrey. If a woman's sweet an' strong an' +healthy like Hermy, an' got a chin--nothin' can harm her. But beauty +like hers is a curse to any good woman if she's poor, beauty being a +quick-seller, y' see!" + +"Yes, I see--I know!" said Ravenslee, clenching his hands and frowning +blacker than ever. + +"But," continued Mrs. Trapes, and here she leaned forward to touch him +with an impressive, toil-worn hand, "Hermy Chesterton's jest a angel o' +light an' purity; she always has been an' always will be, but she knows +about as much as a good girl can know. She's seen the worst o' poverty, +an' she's made up her mind, when she marries, to marry a man as is a man +an' can give her all the money she wants. So y' see it ain't no good you +wastin' your time danglin' around after her an' sighin'--now is it?" + +"Why, no, Mrs. Trapes, I think I'll speak to her to-night--" + +"My land! ain't I jest been tryin' to show you as you ain't a fit or +worthy party to speak, an' as you won't have a chance if you do speak, +her 'eart bein' set on wealth? But you can't speak--you won't speak--I +know you won't!" + +"Why not?" + +"First, because t' night she's away at Englewood makin' a dress for Mrs. +Crawley as is very fond of her. An' second, because you ain't the man to +ask a girl to marry him when he ain't got nothin' t' keep her on--you +know you ain't!" + +"Which brings us back to the undoubted fact that I must get a job--at +once." + +"Hm!" said, Mrs. Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful +figure with approval, "what could y' do?" + +"Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you +suggest?" + +"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers' +assistants makes good money--an' I know Mr. Smith wants a butterman." + +"Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter butter about--" + +"Are ye used to butter?" + +"Oh, I've a decided taste for it!" + +"Know much about it?" + +"Certainly--it is a yellowish, fatty substance concocted by human agency +supposedly from the lacteous secretion of the graminivorous quadruped +familiarly known as the common (or garden) cow." + +"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, drawing a deep breath, "you sure do know +something about it. Ever worked in it before?" + +"Only with my teeth." + +"Oh--quit your jollying, Mr. Geoffrey, if you want me t' help you!" + +"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Well, then, there's Jacob Pffeffenfifer wants a young man in his +delicatessen store." + +"Mrs. Trapes, I can slice ham and beef with any one on earth." + +"D' ye understand picklin' and seasonin'?" + +"Ah, there you have me again; I fear I don't." + +"Then you ain't no good to Jacob Pffeffenfifer!" + +"On second thoughts, I'm not wholly sorry," answered Ravenslee gravely. +"You see, a name like that would worry me, it would shake my nerve; I +might cut beef instead of ham, or ham instead of--" + +"Mr. Geoffrey!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows. + +"Sober as a judge, Mrs. Trapes and--by Jupiter!" + +"My land! What is it?" + +"An idea--look!" and Ravenslee pointed down into the yard. + +"Why, it's only Tony!" said Mrs. Trapes, glancing down a vista of +riotous garments. + +"Precisely," answered Ravenslee, rising and stretching his long arms, +"Tony has solved my difficulty; I'll go into the peanut trade." + +"What? Sell peanuts? You?" + +"Why not? 'Man is born--' you know." + +"But--my land! Only dagos and guinneys sells peanuts!" + +"Splendid! I shall be the exception, Mrs. Trapes. Anyway, a peanut man +I'll be!" And catching up his disreputable hat, Ravenslee nodded and +left his landlady staring after him and murmuring "well!" at intervals. +Presently she reached for her iron, stone-cold long since, and stood +awhile clutching it in bony fingers and staring at nothing in +particular. + +"He's sure a man, Hermy my dear!" she said at last, nodding at the +stuffed parrot in the corner. "I've watched him careful and I know. And +there's some things better than money, my dear--ah, much better! So if I +should help to bring you into his arms--man an' wife, my dear--why, I +guess it would be the best thing Anne Angelina Trapes ever done--yes, +mam!" Saying which, she went back to her ironing. + +On the stairs Ravenslee met Spike, who hailed him joyously. + +"Say, Geoff, I'm all alone to-night; come an' eat supper with me--how +about it?" + +"Suppose you have supper at Mrs. Trapes' with me?" + +"No, she gets on me nerves--so come on over, will you?" + +"With pleasure." + +"'N' say, I'm a few chips shy on butter, Geoff--bring in ten cents' +worth, will you?" + +"Right, O comrade, I'll be with you anon. Make boil the kettle against +my coming," and Ravenslee hastened down the stairs. Reaching the court +he met the Italian trundling his barrow toward a certain shed, its usual +nocturnal biding place. + +"How goes it, Tony?" he enquired, shaking hands. + +The Italian nodded and flashed his teeth. "Ver-a good, pal!" he +answered. + +"Tony, where can I get a peanut outfit like yours?" + +"Ha! You go-a in-a da peanut-a beezneez, hey? You want-a push-a de cart, +hey?" + +"That's it, Tony." + +"Ver-a good!" nodded the good-natured Italian. "You come-a long-a me, +pal. I take-a you get-a push-a-de-cart, up-a de street, yes?" Having +very soon locked away his barrow, the loquacious Tony led Ravenslee +along certain streets and into a certain yard, where presently appeared +a stout man with rings in his ears, who smiled and nodded and greeted +them with up-flung finger and the word "altro." Presently Ravenslee +found himself examining a highly ornate barrow fitted with stove and +outfit complete, even unto the whistle, and mounted upon a pair of the +rosiest wheels he had ever seen. Thereafter were more smiles and nods, +accompanied by the ever recurrent "altro", the transfer of certain bills +into the stout man's pocket, and Geoffrey Ravenslee sallied forth into +the street, bound for Mulligan's, with the chattering Tony beside him +and the gaily-painted barrow before him, receiving many friendly hints +as to the pitfalls and intricacies of the peanut trade and hearkening +with unflagging interest to the story of "lil Pietro" and the unbounded +goodness of "da Signorina Hermione." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +ANTAGONISM IS BORN AND WAR DECLARED + + +"Why--hello, Hermy!" exclaimed Spike, pausing in the doorway. "Gee, I +thought you was--were in Englewood." + +Hermione lifted her golden head, stayed her humming sewing-machine, and +smiled at him. + +"And I thought I'd come home and surprise you. Aren't you glad to see +me, boy dear?" + +"Why, sure I am!" he answered, and stooping, kissed a golden curl that +wantoned at her white temple; which done, he sprawled in the easy-chair +and taking a newspaper from his pocket, fell to studying the latest +baseball scores while Hermione, head bent above her work again, glanced +at him now and then rather wistfully. + +"Gee whiz," he exclaimed suddenly, "the Giants put it all over +Cincinnati to-day, Hermy. Y' see, Matty was in th' box, an' he sure +pitched some game!" + +Hermione stopped her machine and looked at him under wrinkling brows. + +"I thought you were hunting through the 'wanted' columns, Arthur?" + +"Why, y' see I ain't--haven't got to the ads yet, Hermy." + +Hermione sighed softly and, resting her round chin in her hands, viewed +him silently awhile until, becoming aware of the steadfast gaze of those +sweet and gentle eyes, Spike shuffled uneasily and changed colour. + +"Arthur," she said softly, "when you promised me to try and find a +situation you meant it, didn't you?" + +"Sure I did!" + +"That was a week ago, dear." + +"But, Hermy, I went after that office-boy's job--you know I did!" + +"Yes, dear, though you got there too late." + +"No, I wasn't late, Hermy, only another guy happened t' get there +first--an' got the job! A kid I could have licked with one hand, too. +One of these mommer's pets in a nobby sack suit--all dolled up in a +clean collar an' a bow-tie an' grey kid gloves. I guess his outfit +helped him a whole lot--an' y' see I'm a few chips shy on clothes, I +guess." + +Hermione looked at her brother's worn garments, shiny at elbow and knee, +and as she looked, her eyes were suddenly suffused. + +"Yes, dear, I--I'm afraid they are--rather shabby," she admitted humbly. +"Your clothes always did seem to wear out so very quickly! And--and it +costs so much to live! And--sometimes I grow--afraid--" + +The smooth, low voice faltered and ended upon a sob. Spike stared in +wide-eyed amaze, for seldom had he seen his sister thus, but now, +beholding the droop of that brave head, seeing how her strong white +hands gripped each other, he tossed the paper aside, and flinging +himself on his knees clasped her in his arms. + +"Don't cry, Hermy!" he pleaded. "Oh, don't cry, I--I can't bear it. You +know I love you best in the world--ah, don't cry, dear. I--I'll hunt up +a job first thing--honest I will--" + +"But your clothes are so very shabby!" she sobbed, "and oh, boy dear, +I have only just enough to--pay our rent this month--so I can't get you +any more--yet, dear!" + +"Hermy," said he brokenly, "oh, Hermy, you make me feel so mean +I--I--One sure thing you're never goin' t' spend your money on clothes +for me any more--? the money you work so hard for! Never any more, +Hermy dear. You've done enough for me, I guess, an' now it's up t' me +to help you and--and--oh, Gee!" Here Spike's voice broke altogether, +whereupon Hermione, quite forgetting her own sorrows and worries, fell +to soothing and comforting him as she had done many and many a time +during his motherless childhood. + +"Say, Hermy," said he at last, his tear-stained cheek pillowed on her +soft, round bosom, "you won't think me a--an awful kid for--for cryin', +will you?" + +"I think I love you all the better, boy dear, and--I'm sure it has done +us both good," and, smiling down at him through her tears, she kissed +him. + +"I'll start in an' rustle up a job right away, Hermy!" said he, rising +and nodding grimly. + +"Oh, boy," said she, looking up at him fondly, "I shall be so proud of +you. It wouldn't matter what it was, or how little you got at first, so +long as it was decent and honourable. And I'm sure you'll get on--Mr. +Geoffrey thinks so too." + +"Does he? I'm glad o' that. Say, how d'ye like Geoff?" + +"Oh--well, I've only seen him two or three times," said Hermione, +folding away her work preparatory to cooking supper. + +"Is that all?" said Spike, smoothing out the paper and scowling at the +long columns headed "Help Wanted." + +"Ye-es, I think so." + +"But you an' him 's always meetin' on the stairs, ain't--aren't you?" + +"You should say 'he and you', dear." + +"Well--but aren't you?" + +"We have met--once or twice." + +"D'ye like him?" + +"Well, he's so very--different! And rather lazy! And awfully sleepy! And +yet I don't think he's sleepy really, somehow." + +"Sleepy?" exclaimed Spike. "Well, I guess not! Lazy I dunno, but he +sure is all to the wide-awake-o. When he looks sleepiest, I guess he's +widest-awakest. And he ain't a--isn't a bad looker, is he?" + +"He has nice eyes!" Hermione admitted. + +"Oh, I don't mean his eyes!" quoth Spike disgustedly. "I mean his arms +an' legs an' shoulders." + +"They are nice and wide!" nodded Hermione. + +"I should like t' see Geoff in th' ring. He'd strip big!" + +"Oh, really," said Hermione, taking a very large apron from the table +drawer. "Boy, dear, I do wish you weren't always thinking of fighting." + +"All right, Hermy dear. But there ain't no flies on Geoff--'n' say, I +want yer to like him 'cause I kinder think he's all to the cream-puffs +an'--" + +"Arthur!" cried Hermione, lifting an admonishing finger. + +"I'm sorry; my tongue kinder slipped, Hermy. But I have been trying t' +keep tabs on me talk, honest I have." + +"Yes, dear. You haven't been quite so frightful lately." + +"Y' see, Hermy, you're different; you went to a swell school an'--" + +"And you never did--I know, dear. But oh, Arthur, I did the best I +could." + +"And a lot better than I deserved," said he, reaching out to pat her +hand caressingly. "When I get a good job, I'll stay in nights and study +hard like you want me to--I sure will." + +"Yes, dear, and you'll soon be heaps cleverer than I am," said she, +stooping to kiss his curly head as she tied the apron about her shapely +hips; and then, giving him a smiling nod, she vanished into the kitchen, +while Spike laboured through the long columns headed "Help Wanted." And +presently, as she moved light-footed to and fro in the kitchen, he heard +her singing softly to herself, an old, old song of other days that had +often been his lullaby when he was a small, motherless armful of +sleepiness hushed in her young, protecting clasp. + +"Arthur!" she called. + +"Hello!" he answered. + +"Are you hungry?" + +"You bet I am!" + +A long pause, whereafter ensued the following conversation between +kitchen and parlour: + +Hermione. "Boy dear!" + +Spike. "Hello!" + +Hermione. "Be a dear and lay the cloth for me!" + +Spike. "Right-o!" + +A longer pause, during which Spike rises and takes cloth from sideboard +drawer. + +Hermione. "Arthur!" + +Spike. "Yes?" + +Hermione. "Where did you meet him?" + +Spike (starting). "Who?" + +Hermione. "Mr. Geoffrey. How did you happen to meet each other?" + +Another pause, while Spike stands frowning in perplexed thought. + +Spike. "Where did you say the cloth was?" + +Hermione. "In the sideboard drawer. How long have you known +him?" + +Spike (beginning to lay the cloth feverishly). "Oh, a goodish +time. Say, Hermy, he sure likes your name a whole lot!" + +Hermione. "Oh!" (A very small pause.) "Likes my name, does he?" + +Spike. "He sure does. He told me so." + +Hermione. "Oh!" (Another small pause.) "Just what did he say, +boy dear?" + +Spike. "He said it was Greek an' very beautiful, an' then I said +it kind of fitted you because you were aces up on the face an' figure +question." + +A rush of petticoats, and enter Hermione, flushed and laughing. + +"You dear boy!" she cried, "for that you shall be kissed!" which he was +forthwith; after which she turned to the mirror to smooth back a +shining tress of hair--that same rebellious curl that glistened above +her fine, black eyebrow. + +"Where did you say you first met him--Mr. Geoffrey?" she enquired +suddenly, still busied with the rebellious curl. Spike started, and +glanced uneasily at her shapely back. + +"Say, Hermy," said he, a little huskily, "have you got anything for +supper?" + +"Not much, dear, I'm afraid." + +"That's a pity!" + +"Why?" + +"Oh, because I asked him in to supper." + +"You asked Mr. Geoffrey--here?" she gasped. + +"Surest thing you know. Y' see, I thought you was staying over at +Englewood." + +"Oh, Arthur!" she sighed. "And there are only two wretched little chops! +And not a bit of butter! And the rent's due to-morrow--I can't spare a +cent--and me in this shabby old gown! and you broke the best teapot." + +"Sounds kind of gay an' festive!" sighed Spike ruefully. "But don't +worry about the eats, dear. Geoff won't mind, an' he'll never notice +your old gown--" + +"He seems to notice a great deal," said Hermione doubtfully as she +hastily untied the big apron, "and besides--oh, gracious goodness!" +she cried, as a knock sounded at the front door, "you must let him in, +Arthur--and don't let him know I'm changing my gown!" Saying which, she +vanished into her bedroom while Spike hastened to the door. + +"Why--hello, Tony!" he exclaimed, "what's wrong now?" + +"My lil Pietro," cried the Italian excitedly, "he no sleep--he burn-a +burn-a all-a da time,--all-a da time cry! You tell-a you sis--she come-a +like-a da las' time den he no cry-a--" But here Tony broke off to +flourish his hat and bow gracefully as he caught sight of Hermione +herself. "Ah, Signorina!" he cried, "my lil Pietro he seeck. You +please-a come see my lil Pietro? He flush-a he cry--he all-a da fire! he +burn-a, burn-a, like-a da fire! You so good, so generosa--you come see +my lil Pietro?" + +"Why, of course I will!" said Hermione in her calm, soft voice, "poor +little mite--is he feverish?" + +"Si, si Signorina!" answered the anxious young father, "he burn-a, +burn-a all-a da time!" + +"Reach me the aconite, boy dear; yes, that's it." + +"But what about supper, Hermy?" queried Spike wistfully. + +"Oh, well--finish laying the table; I'll be back as soon as ever I can, +dear." + +"Oh, Gee!" sighed Spike, as their footsteps died away down the stair, +"she sure is keen on knowing how I met Geoff! And if she ever finds +out--" Spike cowered down into a chair and clasping his head between his +hands sat thus a long while, staring moodily at the floor, striving for +a way out of the difficulty. He was yet wrestling with this knotty +problem when he heard muffled knocks at the front door, which, being +opened, disclosed the object of his thoughts. + +"Why, Geoff," he cried gladly, "I thought you wasn't coming. Say, what +you got there?" he enquired, for Ravenslee's arms were filled with +sundry packages and parcels. + +"Come and see!" said Ravenslee mysteriously. "Catch this one before I +drop it!" + +"Why--hello," said Spike, sniffing at the package in question as he led +the way into the parlour, "it smells good! It sniffs like--Holy Gee, +it's a roast turkey! And--oh, say, Geoff--she's a beaut!" + +"Precisely what Mr. Pffeffenfifer assured me," said Ravenslee, +depositing his other burdens on the table. "Mr. Pffeffenfifer is +a man educated in eats, a food fancier, an artist of the appetite! +Mr. Pffeffenfifer is fat and soulful! Mr. Pffeffenfifer nearly wept +tears over the virtues of that bird--pledged his mortal soul for its +tenderness, vowed by all the gods it had breast enough for twins! Mr. +Pffeffenfifer seemed so passionately attached to that bird that I feared +he meant to keep it to gloat over in selfish secrecy. But no--base coin +seduced him, did the trick and--here it is. Also we have a loaf!" and +from beneath one arm Ravenslee dropped a package that resolved itself +into a Vienna roll. "Also, ham--" + +"Hey, Geoff," said Spike in awe-struck tones, "are all these eats?" + +"Certainly. I should have brought more if I could have carried 'em." + +"More?" + +"Most decidedly. When I buy eats, my lad, I buy everything in sight that +looks worth while--if Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells. Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells +in such a soulfully seductive way that eats acquire virtues above and +beyond their own base selves. Mr. Pffeffenfifer can infuse soul into a +sausage. Behold now, eats the most alluring. See, what's this! Ah, yes, +here we have, item: Salmi, redolent of garlic! Here again a head cheese, +succulent and savoury; here's ham, most ravishingly pink--and a +Camembert cheese." + +"But, Jiminy Christmas--you bought such a lot of each. Who's goin' t' +eat all these?" + +"We, of course!" + +"But we can't eat 'em all!" sighed Spike. + +"Can't we?" said Ravenslee, beginning to view the quantity of the +numerous viands with dubious eyes. "They do seem rather a lot now I see +'em all together. But I'm ravenous, and if we can't manage 'em, we'll +find some one who can." + +"Y' see, Geoff, I shan't be able t' eat any o' the rest when I'm through +with the turk'!" sighed Spike, a little reproachfully. "My, but I'm +hungry! Strange how hungry cold turkey makes a guy!" + +"Why, then," said Ravenslee, pitching his hat into a corner, "sit down, +comrade, and 'let mirth with unconfin_ed_ wing'--" Ravenslee yawned. + +"I guess we'd better wait a bit, Geoff." + +"What for?" + +"Hermy." + +"Is she--do you mean she's back?" enquired Ravenslee, sitting up. + +"Yes, she didn't stay at Englewood; she's down-stairs, doctoring Tony's +kid." + +"But what will she think of all these confounded messes?" + +"Messes!" cried Spike indignantly. "Cheese it, Geoff--look at that +turk'!" + +"But--do you think she'll--mind?" enquired Ravenslee uneasily. + +"Mind?" said Spike, staring. "Not on your life--why should she? Besides, +it's kind o' lucky you happened to blow in with this free lunch; she's a +bit shy on the dollar question this month--an' Mulligan comes t'morrow. +An' oh, say, Geoff--she's dead set on findin' out how I met you an'--an' +where." + +"Very naturally!" murmured Ravenslee. + +"An' we must tell her something--but what?" + +"Spike, you've forgotten the mustard! And as for--er--lying to your +sister, let our motto be 'sufficient unto the day.' Our present need +is mustard, Spike." + +"Say, this sure is goin' t' be some supper, Geoff!" said Spike, setting +on the mustard and gazing at the array of edibles with shining eyes. +"Gee, I could eat cold turkey all night!" + +"Have we everything ready, Spike?" + +"Except butter, Geoff." + +"Ha! the one thing I forgot, of course! Cut off and get some like the +good fellow you are!" and Ravenslee flicked a bill into Spike's hand, +who, seizing his cap, promptly vanished. Being alone, Ravenslee crossed +to the sideboard, and taking thence a certain photograph, seated himself +in the easy-chair and fell to studying it with deep and grave attention. +And sitting thus, he let fancy run riot--and fancy was singularly +pleasing to judge by the glow in his eyes and the tender smile that +curved his lip. + +He was lost deep within his dreams when he was aware of a loud knock +upon the outer door which Spike had left unlatched and, replacing the +photograph, he rose. + +"Come in!" said he. A heavy step sounded in the little hall, the door +was pushed open, and a man entered. He was a young man, big and +broad-shouldered, and Ravenslee's keen eyes were quick to heed the +length and ponderous carriage of the arms, the girth of chest, and firm, +heavy poise of the feet; lastly he looked at the face, aggressively +handsome with its dominating nose and chin, and blue eyes shaded by +thick lashes, that looked out beneath heavy brows--a comely-seeming face +from the dark, close-cropped hair to the deep cleft in the strong, +fleshy chin. + +But now, beneath Ravenslee's persistent regard, the full-curved, shapely +lips grew slowly into a cruel, down-trending line, the nostrils +expanded, while the blue eyes narrowed to shining slits beneath +quick-scowling, black brows. For a long moment the two men stared at +each other, eye to eye, then, in a hoarse, assertive tone the newcomer +spoke. + +"What you doin' here? Who are ye?" + +Mr. Ravenslee sat down and began to fill his pipe. + +"Where's d' Kid?" + +Mr. Ravenslee brushed stray grains of tobacco from his knee with +elaborate care. + +"Hey, you! Where's Spike--'n' what you doin' here, anyway?" + +Mr. Ravenslee glanced up casually. "And pray, who the devil may you be +pleased to be?" he enquired. + +"Me name's M'Ginnis!" + +"Oh, indeed?" + +"Yes--indeed! Bud M'Ginnis--Is that good 'nuff for ye?" + +"Well, since you ask," said Ravenslee, shaking languid head, "I should +scarcely class you as a 'bud' myself. No--I should say you were perhaps +just a trifle--er--overblown. But have it your own way!" and Mr. +Ravenslee smiled engagingly. + +"Where's Spike?" demanded M'Ginnis, his tone a little gruffer, "and +say--you can cut out the comedy, see? Nix on the funny business." + +"You are a pessimist, I presume, Mr. Flowers?" + +"Where's d' Kid? Speak up now--where is he?" + +"Also, your conversation grows a little monotonous, Mr. Flowers." + +M'Ginnis stared, then shot out his big chin viciously. + +"What you doin' in Hermy's flat, eh?" + +Mr. Ravenslee's brows wrinkled slightly, but his soft voice grew softer, +as, pausing in the act of lighting his pipe, he answered: "On the whole +I think you are a rather--er--unpleasant young man, so suppose +you--er--go--" + +"What? Go? Are ye tryin' t' tell me t' go?" + +"I'm suggesting that you--er--crank up the machine, Mr. Flowers, and +beat it while the going's good!" + +M'Ginnis clenched his fist and took a threatening step toward Ravenslee, +then checked himself and stood breathing heavily. + +"May I further suggest," said Ravenslee in his pleasantest voice, "that +you look in again--say next Thursday fortnight, Mr. Flowers?" + +"T' hell with you--me name's M'Ginnis." + +"Of course you might leave a message, Mr. Flowers--" + +"Now, see here, you!" said M'Ginnis, his words coming thick with +passion. "I wanter know, first, where Spike is. And then I wanter know +who you are. And then I wanter know what you're after in Hermy +Chesterton's flat--and you're sure goin' t' tell me!" + +"Am I?" + +"You sure are!" + +Mr. Ravenslee opened the matchbox. "Seems a pity to shake a confidence +so sublime," he sighed. "And yet--" + +"An' see here again! I've known Hermy since we was kids, an' I don't +allow no man t' come stamping around here--see? So you're goin' t' quit, +an' you're goin' t' quit right now!" + +"Do I look like a quitter, Mr. Flowers?" + +Now beholding the speaker's lazy assurance of pose, the contemptuous +indifference of his general air, M'Ginnis stood speechless a moment, his +clenched fists quivering, while, above the loosely-tied scarf, his +powerful neck seemed to swell and show knotted cords that writhed and +twisted, and when at last he spoke, his words came in a panting rush. + +"This is Hermy's flat, an' I guess--you think you're safe here--but you +ain't! I'm thinkin' out which'll do th' least harm to her furniture--to +lick ye here or drag you out on to the landin' first!" + +Mr. Ravenslee lounged lower in the armchair and yawned behind the box of +matches. And in that moment, like a maddened animal, M'Ginnis leapt upon +him and, striking no blow, seized and shook Ravenslee in powerful, +frantic hands, while from between his lips, curled back from big, white +teeth, came a continuous, vicious, hissing sound. + +"I'll wake ye up!" he panted. "Come out--come out, I say--oh, I'll wake +ye up when I get ye outside, I guess. Come out! What you doin' in +Hermy's flat? By God! I'll choke ye till you tell me!" and his hands +came upon Ravenslee's throat--came to be met there by two other hands +that, closing upon his wrists, wrenched and twisted viciously in +opposite directions and, loosing his hold, M'Ginnis fell back, staring +down at bruised and lacerated skin where oozed a few slow drops of +blood. + +"And now," said Ravenslee, rising, "after you, Mr. Flowers! Let us by +all means step outside, where we will each earnestly endeavour to pitch +the other down-stairs--personally, I shall do my very damnedest, for +really I don't--no, I do not like you, Mr. Flowers; you need some one +to tread on you a little. Step outside and let _me_ try." + +While M'Ginnis stared from his swelling, bloody wrists to Ravenslee's +face--a face quite as fierce and determined as his own--steps were heard +and Spike's voice called: + +"Hermy come in yet, Geoff?" + +"Not yet--but our friend Mr. Flowers has dropped in--socially, I fancy." + +"Mr. Who?" enquired Spike at the door, but beholding M'Ginnis's angry +face, he paused there, staring aghast. "Why--hello, Bud!" said he +nervously. "What's wrong?" + +"Nothin' much--yet, Kid, only it's kinder lucky for this guy as you +happened in. Who is he? What's he doin' here?" + +"He's only a friend o' mine, Bud, an' he's all right, 'n' say--" + +"Tell him t' beat it." + +"But y'see, Bud--" + +"Tell him as we don't want his kind around here or--" + +"Spike, did you bring in the butter?" enquired Ravenslee, serenely +unconscious of M'Ginnis. + +"Yes, here it is, Geoff--but say--" + +"It doesn't feel much," said Ravenslee, weighing the package in his +hand. + +"It's half a pound. But say, here's Bud; he says you're to--" + +"My, Spike, I'll trouble you for the butter-dish--thanks!" and turning +away, Ravenslee busied himself at the table, whistling softly the while. + +"But, Geoff, this is Bud!" cried the lad, glancing from one to the other +in an agony of suspense. "Oh, don' ye know dis is Bud M'Ginnis?" + +"Ah, still here, is he?" said Ravenslee, without looking round. + +"See here, Kid," growled M'Ginnis, "you tell your--friend t' clear +out an' t' do it real quick, see? You tell him if he ain't out in two +minutes, I'll run him out meself--" + +"Spike, this butter is nearly oil." + +"Oh, Geoff," groaned the boy, "you've got t' go--here's Bud--" + +"Why, then, Spike, tell him to--er--chase himself; I'm busy!" Came the +sound of a chair set roughly aside and a shrill cry from Spike: "My God, +Bud--don't! Look out, Geoff!" + +But, as M'Ginnis came, Ravenslee turned swiftly, ducked the expected +blow, and swinging his fist up beneath his assailant's extended arm, +smote him hard and true upon the elbow; and Spike, pale and wide of eye, +saw that arm fall and dangle helplessly at M'Ginnis' side, while his +face was contorted with sharp agony. + +"My God, Geoff! What you done t' him?" + +"Pins and needles, Spike--that's all. A hoary old trick, but useful now +and then. Mr. Flowers isn't so very wide-awake as folks seem to think. +You see, it wouldn't have done to knock him out here; he might have +upset the table." + +"Knock out Bud!" cried Spike, aghast. "But there ain't nobody can lick +Bud M'Ginnis!" + +"Oh, I don't know, Spike. Anyway, we'll see what can be done--outside! +After you, Mr. Flowers! Pray go first, Mr. Flowers! A fellow who would +attack a man sitting down isn't to be trusted behind one--so, after you, +Mr. Flowers. Oh, we'll wait until you can use your arm, but we'll wait +outside. Miss Chesterton's flat is no place for your sort, so--out with +you, and quick--d'ye hear?" + +M'Ginnis opened his lips to retort, but passion choked him, and snarling +unintelligibly, he turned and strode out upon the landing. As they stood +fronting each other, very silent and grim and menacing, running feet +were heard ascending the stairs, and a slender boy appeared, who, +perceiving M'Ginnis, panted out: + +"Say, Bud, O'Rourke's been pinched by d' cops! He wants ye t' skin over +an' fix it up--" + +"O'Rourke pinched?" growled M'Ginnis. "Say you, Larry, what yer givin' +me?" + +"S' right, Bud, dere's a noo captain on d' precinct, an' he's pinched +O'Rourke. 'N' say, Bud, d' game's all balled up; d' push is all up in d' +air. 'N' say, O'Rourke's crazy an' can't do nothin', so he sent me t' +fetch ye. You're d' only one as can fix d' police, so come on right now +before d' whole show's busted up." During this breathless speech the +narrowed eyes of M'Ginnis never left Ravenslee's pale, placid face, and +in the persistence of this ferocious glare was something animal-like. + +"Say, you--Mr. Butt-in!" said he, "I ain't through wid you--not by a +whole lot I ain't. Oh, I'll get ye yet, an' I'll get ye good! There +won't be nothin' left for nobody else when I'm through wid you. Savvy +this--there ain't nobody ever goin' t' queer me with Hermy Chesterton. +Oh, I'll get ye good, an' I'll get ye--soon!" + +So saying, Bud M'Ginnis turned, and went slowly and unwillingly down the +stair. + +"Gee, but I'm glad he's gone!" said Spike, as he closed the door. "Gee, +but I'm--glad!" and he drew a deep breath. + +"So am I!" said Ravenslee, sinking into the armchair, "but there's +always to-morrow, isn't there?" + +But instead of replying, Spike stood to stare on Ravenslee with eyes of +admiring awe. + +"I guess you know how t' handle y' self, Geoff," said he. + +"I used to think I could, once upon a time," answered Ravenslee, +stooping to recover his pipe. + +"That sure was some wallop you handed him!" + +"'T was fair, I thank you, comrade!" + +"I shall be awful sorry to have you leave me, Geoff." + +"Leave you?" + +"Well, you heard what he said?" + +"Yes, I heard." + +"An' you know what he meant?" + +"I can guess." + +"You'd best skin out o' Mulligan's first thing to-morrow." + +"What for?" + +"Bud says you must, an' he'll make you, worse luck!" + +"Oh, how?" + +"Well," said Spike in low, troubled tones, "he'll sic d' gang on to you +if you don't make your get-away while you can--" + +"By God!" exclaimed Ravenslee, his eyes suddenly very bright, "I never +thought of that!" + +"Yes, so I'm thinking you'd best skin off t'night, Geoff!" sighed the +lad gloomily, whereupon Ravenslee, pocketing his pipe, clapped him +joyously upon the shoulder. + +"Banish that dejection, my comrade," said he, "for now, my Arthur-Spike, +'now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer in this brutal +Bud' and--" + +"What yer mean, Geoff?" + +"I mean that life's erstwhile dull monotony is like to be forgotten +quite in the vigorous, exhilarating air of Hell's Kitchen. Hell's +Kitchen suits me admirably, consequently in Hell's Kitchen I'll stay." + +"Stay? Geoff, are ye crazy? What about Bud M'Ginnis?" + +"M'Ginnis, my Arthur? Oh, Bud M'Ginnis may be--hush! Straighten the +cloth yonder, Spike; she's coming at last, by Heaven!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +CONTAINING SOME DESCRIPTION OF A SUPPER PARTY + + +"Oh!" said Hermione, as she caught sight of Ravenslee's tall figure, +"you've come then, Mr. Geoffrey? I've been hoping and praying you +wouldn't! I mean--" she added hastily, in answer to his look, "I mean +I have only two miserable little chops for supper." + +"S' all right, Hermy!" cried Spike. "I told you not to worry about the +eats. Look what's here--stand out o' the light, Geoff, so she can see +the table!" + +"Why--why--what's all this?" she exclaimed, staring at the numerous +well-filled dishes with blue eyes very wide. "Oh, goodness +gracious--me!" and she turned to look at Mr. Ravenslee, who, meeting +that wondering glance, actually found himself stammering again. + +"The fact is, Miss Hermione--er--I say the fact is we--Arthur and I--are +giving a little supper to-night in honour of--of--er--my birthday." + +"You bet we are, Hermy!" added Spike. "Will you pipe the turk'?" + +"We have been waiting for you," continued Ravenslee, placing a chair for +her, "you see--er--you are to be our guest of honour--if you will?" + +"Sure you are!" nodded Spike, "and I'm head-waiter, eater-in-chief t' +the turk' while she lasts, an' chief mourner when she's gone--so now +I'll go an' make th' tea, only don't begin without me--a fair start an' +all together, see?" and he vanished into the kitchen. + +"But--a whole turkey!" said Hermione, viewing it with feminine, +knowledgeful eyes, "and then all this ham and tongue and--Mr. Geoffrey, +how extravagant of you!" And she shook her shapely head at him +reprovingly but with a smile curving her red lips; and lo! there was the +shining curl above her eyebrow again, more wantonly alluring than usual. +"Whatever made you buy so much?" + +"Mr. Pffeffenfifer!" answered Ravenslee, staring at the radiant curl, +whereupon she, becoming aware of it, would have sent it into immediate +retirement among its many fellows but that he stayed her humbly. + +"Please don't!" he said. + +"But it--tickles!" + +"Well, let it!" + +"But--why should I?" + +"For--Arthur's sake." + +"Arthur's!" she laughed. "Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, as if he would ever notice!" + +"Well, then, for the--er--turkey's sake!" + +"The turkey!" she laughed. "I'm afraid I'm dreadfully untidy to sit down +at such a luxurious feast." + +"Are you?" + +"Well--am I not? Look at this poor old gown!" + +"I'm afraid I didn't notice your--er--gown." + +"What did I tell you, Hermy?" said Spike, entering with the teapot. +"Geoff ain't--I mean, isn't--that kind o' guy--I mean mutt--no, I mean +feller. Y' see, Geoff, a girl always thinks a feller's got his lamps--I +mean eyes--on their rags--clo'es, I mean. 'S' funny, ain't it? Gee, but +I'm hungry!" + +"So am I!" said Hermione. + +"So am I!" said Ravenslee. + +"Why, then," quoth Spike, "I'll tell you what--let's all sit down and +eat! I guess I'm full o' brilliant ideas t'night, but this ain't no time +for talk--not with that turkey starin' us in the face, it ain't--isn't, +I mean. So quit chewin' d' rag an' let's chew d' turk' instead--an' Gee, +but that's some brilliant too, I guess!" + +So down they sat, and while Hermione presided over the cups and saucers, +Ravenslee carved. + +"Light or dark meat, Miss Hermione?" he enquired. + +"Herm; likes th' light, but a drumstick for mine--an' please don't +forget th' stuffin', Geoff!" + +"Tea, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Thanks!" he answered, pausing to watch the curve of her shapely neck as +she bent to pour the tea, and to note how her white hand grasped the +battered teapot, little finger delicately poised. + +"Say, Geoff--get busy!" said Spike wistfully. "I know the teapot's a bit +off on looks, but I broke the best one and--" + +"I didn't even notice the teapot, Spike," said Ravenslee, meeting +Hermione's quick, upward glance. + +"Oh, cheese it, Geoff, here you've sat with your fork in th' turk' an' +your knife in th' air, starin' at that teapot a whole minute." + +"No, Spike, no! I was only thinking that tea never tastes quite right +unless poured out by a woman's hand--and the fairer the hand the better +the tea!" + +"Which means--just what, Mr. Geoffrey?" laughed Hermione. + +"Why, that Spike and I are about to drink the most delicious tea in the +world, of course." + +"I'd rather be eatin' that turk' when you've sawed me off a leg," sighed +Spike. "I say--when you have!" + +"Ah, to be sure!" said Ravenslee, turning his attention to his carving +again, while Hermione bowed her golden head above the teacups. + +"Gee, but she cuts tender!" quoth Spike; "that bird sure has the Indian +sign on me!" + +"Sugar, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Two lumps, please." + +"Milk, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Thank you!" + +"Geoff," said Spike wearily, "I cracked that milk jug last night, but +you don't have to sit starin' at it that way, an' me dyin' of hunger by +inches!" + +"My humble apologies!" said Ravenslee, wresting his gaze from a certain +curl and fixing it upon the turkey again. "I'm a little--er--distracted +to-night, it seems." + +"Oh, Gee!" said Spike in a hopeless tone, "now Hermy's gone an' filled +my cup with milk." + +"Why, boy dear, so I have!" she confessed, with a rueful laugh, and her +cheeks were very pink as she rectified her mistake. + +"Are you distracted too, then?" demanded Spike. + +"No, I--I don't think so--no, no--of course I'm not! I--I was +just--thinking, that's all!" + +"Not about tea, I reckon! Say, what's gettin' you two, anyway?" + +"Arthur," said she serenely, as she passed his tea, "please fetch some +more hot water." + +Spike sighed, rose, and taking the jug, went upon his mission. + +"And how do you like Mulligan's, Mr. Geoffrey?" enquired Hermione, +regarding him with her calm, level eyes. + +"Very much," he answered, "I like it better and better. I think--no, I'm +sure I would rather be in Mulligan's than anywhere else in the world." + +"Oh! Why?" + +Down went carving knife and fork, and leaning toward her he answered: +"Because in Mulligan's, among many other wonders, I have found something +more beautiful and far more wonderful than I ever dreamed of finding." + +"In Mulligan's?" she asked, looking her amazement. + +"In Mulligan's," he answered gravely. Now here, all at once, her glance +wavered and sank before his. + +"What do you mean?" she enquired, staring into her cup. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Yes--no!" she murmured hastily and a little breathlessly, as Spike +reentered, and paused, jug in hand, to stare. + +"What--haven't you served Hermy--yet?" he enquired in an injured tone. + +"Certainly I have," answered Ravenslee, "here it is, you see--all +ready!" + +"Only you forgot t' hand it t' her, and she forgot t' take it. Well, +say--for hungry folks you two are the limit!" + +"'Man doth not live by bread alone,' boy; we were talking," said +Ravenslee, handing Hermione her plate. + +"You said you liked milk and sugar, didn't you, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Holy Gee!" murmured Spike. + +"Milk and sugar, thank you," said Ravenslee, heedful of her deepened +colour. + +"Geoff," enquired Spike gently, "if I was to hang on to that drumstick, +d' ye suppose you might be able to hack it off for me--some day?" + +"My Arthur," said Ravenslee, plying knife and fork energetically, "'tis +done--behold it!" + +"But surely," said Hermione, glancing up suddenly, "surely you +don't--like Mulligan's, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Like it, Miss Hermione? I--abominate it!" + +"Oh!" + +"Say, Geoff," mourned Spike, "don't I get any stuffin' after all?" + +"Mr. Geoffrey, I've been wondering how you and Arthur met--and where, +and--" + +"Gee, Hermy!" Spike exclaimed, "you sure do talk! If you go on asking +poor old Geoff s' many questions, he'll forget t' serve himself this +week. Look at his plate!" + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, do serve yourself, please, and--oh, my gracious! +I've forgotten to give you your tea; I'm so sorry!" + +Here Spike, having once again staved off the inevitable explanation, +grew hilarious, and they laughed and talked the while they ate and drank +with youthful, healthy appetites. And what a supper that was! What +tongue could tell the gaiety and utter content that possessed them all +three? What pen describe all Hermione's glowing beauty, or how her blue +eyes, meeting eyes of grey would, for no perceptible reason, grow +sweetly troubled, waver in their glance, and veil themselves beneath +sudden, down-drooping lashes? What mere words could ever describe all +the subtle, elusive witchery of her? + +And Spike--ate, of course, in a blissful silence for the most part and +whole-heartedly, his attention centred exclusively upon his plate; thus +how should he know or care how often, across that diminished turkey, +grey eyes looked into blue? As for Ravenslee, he ate and drank he knew +and cared not what, content to sit and watch her when he might--the +delicious curves of white neck and full, round throat, the easy grace of +movement that spoke her vigorous youth; joying in the soft murmurs of +her voice, the low, sweet ring of her laughter, and thrilling responsive +to her warm young womanhood. + +"But Mr. Geoffrey," she enquired suddenly, "if you hate Mulligan's as +much as I do, whatever made you choose to live here?" + +"A thrice blessed fate," he answered, "I came because--er--" + +"You were a poor, lonely guy," added Spike hastily. + +"Precisely, Spike! Compared to my sordid poverty Lazarus was rich, and +as for the loneliness of my existence the--er--abomination of desolation +was a flowery garden!" + +"And how did you happen to meet Ar--" + +A plate crashed to pieces on the floor, and turning, she beheld Spike +very red and rueful of visage. + +"'Fraid I've bent a plate, Hermy," he explained, and winking desperately +at Ravenslee, he stooped to gather up the fragments. + +"Oh, Arthur, and we have so few--" + +"Yes, I know--but it's only the old cracked one, Hermy." + +"You've broken an awful lot of things lately, boy dear," she sighed. +"Never mind--get on with your supper, dear." + +"Oh, I'm all right, but what about you? Gee, Hermy, you sure do talk!" + +"Do I, dear?" + +"Well, I guess! You keep on at poor old Geoff so he don't get a chance +for a real proper chew." + +"But then you see," said Ravenslee, "I would much rather talk than +eat--sometimes." + +"But say, Geoff--" + +"Miss Hermione, you were asking how I met--" + +"Hey, Geoff!" said Spike hoarsely. + +"How I met your brother," continued Ravenslee, silencing the boy with a +look. "Miss Hermione, I'll tell you full and freely." Here Spike took a +gulp of tea and choked, also his brow grew clammy, and he stared with +dilating eyes at Ravenslee, who began forthwith: + +"Once upon a time, Miss Hermione, that is to say upon a certain dark +night, a man sat alone, physically and mentally alone, and very wretched +because his life was empty of all achievement--because, having been +blessed with many opportunities, he had never done anything worth while. +And as he sat there, looking back through the wasted years, this +miserable fool was considering, in his wretched folly, the cowardly sin +of self-destruction, because he was sick of the world and all things in +it--especially of his own useless self! But I hope I don't--er--bore +you, do I?" + +"No," she answered a little breathlessly, gazing at him with eyes deep +and tender; "go on--please go on!" + +"Well," continued Ravenslee gravely, "Destiny, or Heaven, or the +Almighty, taking pity on this sorry fool, sent to him an angel in the +shape of--your brother." + +"Of--Arthur?" she exclaimed, while Spike's rigid attitude relaxed, and +he drew a sudden, deep breath. + +"Of Arthur!" nodded Ravenslee. "And Arthur lifted him out of the Slough +of Despond and taught him that life might be a useful thing after all, +if he could but find some object to help him--one who might inspire him +to nobler things. And so he came here, hoping to find this object." + +"An object?" she enquired softly. + +"The Definite Object!" he answered, "with capital letters. One who might +make life truly worth while. One who, teaching him to forget himself, +should lift him to better things. An object to live for, work for, and +if necessary to--die for!" + +Here Spike, finding himself utterly forgotten again, sighed in deep and +audible relief, and taking up knife and fork, fell to with renewed +appetite, while Hermione, chin rested on folded hands, gazed into +Ravenslee's grave face. + +"Do you think he will ever--find his Object?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"You seem very--confident." + +"I am! You see, she's found." + +"She?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes beginning to waver. + +"With a capital S," said he, leaning nearer. "The Woman! And it's right +here that his difficulties begin, because in the first place he is so +humble and she is so proud and--" + +"Proud?" said she, glancing up swiftly. + +"And so very beautiful!" he continued. + +"Oh!" said she, and this time she did not look at him. + +"Say," quoth Spike, "I think I could go another drumstick, Geoff." + +"And in the second place, he is so unworthy and she so--" + +"An' a bit more stuflin', Geoff," sighed Spike. + +"Can she--help him?" enquired Hermione, stirring her tea absently. + +"She is the only one who can--help me." + +"Oh!" said Hermione again, very softly this time, stirring a little +faster; and, conscious of his glance, flushed deliciously and was silent +awhile. As for Spike, he glanced from one rapt face to the other +and--unostentatiously helped himself to more turkey. + +"But," said Hermione at last, "how can--she help?" + +"By constant association," answered Ravenslee, "by affording me the +daily example of her sweet self-forgetfulness and blameless life." + +"Are you sure she is so--very good?" + +"I am sure she is braver and nobler than any woman I have ever known!" + +Once more Spike glanced from the flushed beauty of his sister's +half-averted face to Ravenslee's shining eyes, and boldly helped himself +to more seasoning. + +"Have you known her very long, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Long enough to know she is--the only woman!" + +"Say, Geoff," sighed Spike, "I guess old Pffeff was right about this +bird; she kind o' melts--'n' say--she's meltin' fast! If you two don't +stop chewin' d' rag an' get busy you'll be too late for this bird, +because this bird is sure a bird of passage and--Holy Gee!" he broke +off, as a knock sounded on the outer door, "who's this, I wonder?" + +Before he could rise, Hermione had vanished into the passage. + +"Say, Geoff," he whispered, "how if it's Bud?" + +Ravenslee frowned and pushed back his chair, but in that moment they +heard Hermione's glad welcome: "Why, Ann, you dear thing, you're just in +time for the turkey--come right in." + +"Turkey, my dear!" spoke the harsh voice of Mrs. Trapes. "Turkey--land +sakes! But I only jest stepped over t' ask if you'd happened to find +that lodger o' mine anywheres--why, Lord bless me!" she broke off, +halting in the doorway as she beheld Ravenslee. "Lordy Lord, if he ain't +a-settin' there, cool as ever was! If he ain't a-eatin' an' drinkin' an' +me cookin' him at this moment the loveliest mutton chop you ever see! A +mutton chop wiv a kidney, as he ordered most express--Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey!" + +"Why, to be sure," said Ravenslee, rising. "I forgot all about that +chop, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Didn't you order it most express--cut thick--an' wiv a kidney?" + +"I did," said Ravenslee penitently. + +"Well--there it is, cooked to a turn, an' nobody t' eat it! An' kidneys +is rose again--kidneys is always risin'. Lord, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"Why, you see, Mrs. Trapes, we--that is, I had a birthday not long ago, +and we're celebrating." + +"And so shall you, Ann," said Hermione, "sit down, dear!" + +"An' me in me oldest apron?" said Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows, "my +dear, I couldn't--an' I wouldn't! But, oh! Mr. Geoffrey, what about that +beautiful chop? I might warm it over for your breakfast?" + +"Heaven forbid!" + +"Then I must eat it myself, I suppose, though it do seem a shame to +waste such a lovely chop on Ann Angelina Trapes! But, Hermy dear, I just +been down to see Mrs. Bowker, an' her little Hazel's very bad--her poor +little hip again, an' she's coughin' too, somethin' dreadful." + +"Poor little Hazel! Did she ask for me, Ann?" + +"Well, my dear, she did, an' Mrs. Bowker did ask if you'd go an' look at +her--but I do hate t' disturb ye, that I do!" + +"Oh, it's all right, Ann. Tell Mrs. Bowker I'll be right down." + +"I will so, but it's a dratted shame as you should shoulder everybody's +troubles, that it is." + +"Oh, Ann--as though I do! And then how about yourself, dear--what of the +Baxters and the Ryders, and Mrs. Tipping's baby and--" + +"My land!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "that chop'll be a cinder!" and she +hurried away. + +"Poor little Hazel," said Hermione, coming to a small corner cupboard. +"She's such a dear, quaint little person! You must have seen her on the +stairs, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"I see so many on the stairs, Miss Hermione, and they are always small +and generally quaint." + +"Hazel's got a game leg, Geoff," said Spike, "an' she hops around +on a little crutch. She told me yesterday she thought you was--I mean +were--a fairy prince, because you always bow an' tip your lid to her +when she says 'good morning.' So now she waits for you every morning, +Geoff--says it makes her feel like she was a real fairy princess in a +story-book. Sounds kind o' batty to me, though." + +Hermione was standing on tiptoe endeavouring to reach a certain bottle +upon the top shelf where were ranged many others of various shapes and +sizes, when Ravenslee's big hand did it for her; but when she would have +taken it, he shook his head. + +"I should like to go with you, if I may," he said, "to be--er--formally +introduced to the princess." + +"But--" began Hermione, hesitating. + +"Also I could carry the bottle for you." + +"Why, if you will do all that--" she smiled. + +"Thanks!" he answered, and putting the bottle in his pocket, he opened +the door. + +"Hey, Geoff," Spike called after him, "you've forgot to kiss the turkey +good-by!" + +"Why then, you can do it for me, Spike!" he answered, and followed +Hermione out upon the landing. + +Side by side they descended the stair, in the doing of which her soft +shoulder met him once, and once he thrilled to feel her hand touch his +in the shadow, but this hand was hastily withdrawn; also, though the +light was dim, he saw that she was frowning and biting her red underlip. + +"These stairs are rather--narrow, aren't they?" said she, drawing to the +wall. + +"Delightfully!" he answered, drawing to the rail; and so they went down +very silently with the width of the stairs between them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +WHEREIN MAY BE FOUND SOME PARTICULARS OF THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF PERHAPS + + +Mrs. Bowker was a small woman, worn and faded like her carpets and +curtains and the dress she wore, but, like them, she was very clean and +neat. + +"'T is real good of you to come, Miss Hermy," said this small, faded +woman, and Ravenslee thought her very voice sounded faded, so repressed +and dismally soft was it. "I wouldn't have had the face t' send for you, +Miss Hermy, only Hazel calls an' calls, like she's doin' now--listen!" + +And sure enough from somewhere near by a small voice reached them, +pitifully faint and thin: "Hermy dear, come t' me--oh, Hermy dear!" + +"She allus lays an' calls like that lately when her poor hip's worse 'n +usual," sighed Mrs. Bowker. "And your gentleman friend--would he like t' +see her too?" + +"Thank you, I should," answered Ravenslee in his soft, pleasant voice. + +"Oh, Mrs. Bowker, this is Mr. Geoffrey," said Hermione a trifle +hurriedly, "he came with me to--to--" + +"Be presented to the princess, if she will honour me," he added. + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Bowker, looking up at him with a faded smile, "Hazel +told me you had a pretty voice, sir, an' I guess I know what she meant. +She sets out on the stairs when she's well enough an' has often seen +ye." + +"Hermy, dear, come t' me--oh, Hermy dear!" called the little voice. + +"Yes, go in, my dear, you know y' way, I guess," sighed Mrs. Bowker, +passing a small, worn hand across her faded eyes. "There's five dozen +more collar-bands I must stitch an' buttonhole t'night--so go your ways, +my dear." So saying, Mrs. Bowker went back to her labour, which was very +hard labour indeed, while Hermione led the way into a tiny room, where, +on a small, neat truckle-bed covered by a faded quilt, a small, pale +child lay fading fast. But at sight of her visitors, two big, brown eyes +grew bigger yet, and her pale, thin little cheeks flushed eagerly. + +"Oh, Hermy dear!" she cried, clasping frail hands, "oh, Hermy, you've +brought him--you've brought me our fairy prince at last!" + +Now what was there in these childish words to cause Hermione's eyes to +droop so suddenly as she took the bottle from Ravenslee's hand, or her +rounded cheek to flush so painfully as she stooped to meet the child's +eager kiss, or, when she turned away to measure a dose of the medicine, +to be such an unconscionable time over it? Observing all of which, +Ravenslee forthwith saluted the small invalid with a grave bow, battered +hat gracefully flourished. + +"It is truly an honour to meet you, princess!" said he, and lifting the +child's frail little hand, he touched it to his lips. Thereafter, +obeying the mute appeal of that hand, he seated himself upon the narrow +bed, while Hermione, soft-voiced and tender, bent above the invalid, +who, having obediently swallowed her medicine, leaned back on her pillow +and smiled from one to the other. + +"And now," said she, drawing Hermione down at her other side and +snuggling between, "now please let's all tell some more fairy tale; an' +please, you begin, Hermy, just where you had t' leave off last time." + +"Why, I--I'm afraid I've forgotten, dear," said Hermione, bending to +smooth the child's pillow. + +"Forgotten--oh, Hermy! But I 'member quite well; you got where poor +Princess Nobody was climbing the mountain very tired an' sad an' +carrying her heavy pack, an' all at once--along came the Prince an' +took her heavy bundle and said he'd love to carry it for her always if +she'd let him. An' poor Nobody knew he was the real Prince at last--the +Prince she'd dreamed of an' waited for all her life, 'cos he'd got grey +eyes so brave an' true--an' he was so big an' strong an' noble. So he +helped her to the top of the mountain, an' then she thought at last she +could see the beautiful City of Perhaps. That's where you got to--don't +you 'member, Hermy dear?" + +Now why should Hermione's shapely head have drooped and drooped until +at last her face was hidden on the pillow? And why should Geoffrey +Ravenslee reach to touch the child's hair with hand so light and tender? + +"The beautiful City of Perhaps," said he gently, "why, Princess, where +did you learn about that?" + +"From dear Princess Nobody, oh, Prince!" + +"And who is she?" + +"Why, she's Hermy, Prince--and I'm Princess Somebody. And oh, Hermy +dear, you do 'member where you left off now, don't you?" + +"Yes, I remember; but I--don't feel like telling fairy stories now, +dear." + +"Oh! are y' sick?" cried the child anxiously, touching Hermione's golden +hair with loving fingers, "is it a headache like my mumsey gets?" + +"N-no, dear, only I--I don't feel like telling any more of our +story--to-night--somehow, dear." + +"Princess," said Ravenslee, "do you know much about the wonderful City +of Perhaps?" + +"Oh, yes--an' I dream about it sometimes, Prince--such beautiful dreams!" + +"Why, of course," nodded Ravenslee, "because it is the most beautiful +City that ever happened, I guess!" + +"Oh, it is!" cried the child, "shall I tell you?" + +"Please do, Princess." + +"Well, it's all made of crystal an' gold, an' every one's happy there +and never sick--oh, never! An' all the children can have ices an' cream +sodas whenever they want an' lovely doll-carriages with rubber on the +wheels an'--an' everything's just lovely. Of course every one's daddy's +got lots an' heaps an' piles of money, so they never get behind with the +rent an' never have to set up all night stitching an' stitching like +mumsey an' Hermy have to sometimes. An' I'm Princess Somebody, an' +Hermy's Princess Nobody, an' we're on our ways through the valley of +gloom, trying to find the beautiful City of Perhaps--but oh, it's awful +hard to find!" she ended, with a weary little sigh. + +"And yet, Princess, I'm sure we shall find it." + +"We? Oh, are you coming too, Prince?" cried the child joyfully. + +"To be sure I am!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"Oh, goody, I'm glad--so glad, 'cause I know we shall find it now!" + +"Why?" + +"Well," answered the child, looking at him with her big, wistful eyes, +"'cause you look like you could find it, somehow. You see, Prince, +you've got grey eyes so brave an' true--an' you're big an' strong an' +could carry me an' Hermy over the thorny places when we get very, very +tired--couldn't you?" + +"I could!" answered Ravenslee almost grimly, "and I--surely will!" + +"When we get there, Prince, I want first--a doll-carriage an' a doll +with lovely blue eyes that wink at you, an' a big box of candy, an' a +new dress for my mumsey, an' no more work, an' I want lots an' lots of +flowers for my daddy 'cause he loves flowers--oh, an' I want my leg t' +be made well. What d' you want, Hermy?" + +"Well, dear, I want to--say good-by to my sewing-machine for ever and +ever and ever!" + +"Why, Hermy!" exclaimed the child, "last time you said you wanted some +one who could give you your heart's desire!" + +"Perhaps that is my heart's desire, little Hazel," said Hermione, rising +and taking up the medicine bottle. + +"An' what do you want, Prince?" + +"I want a great deal," answered Ravenslee, smiling down into the big, +soft eyes. "I want some one who--is my heart's desire now and for ever +and ever. Good night, dear little Princess!" + +"You'll come again, Prince?" she pleaded, holding up her face to be +kissed, "you'll come again soon?" + +"As soon as--Princess Nobody will bring me." + +"Good night, Hermy dear; you'll bring our Prince again soon?" + +"If you wish, dear," said Hermione, stooping to kiss her in turn. + +"Why, Hermy--what makes your cheeks so hot to-night?" + +"Are they?" said Hermione, making pretence to test them with the back of +her hand. + +"Why, yes," nodded the child, "an' they look so red an'--" + +"Of course you believe in fairies, don't you, Princess?" enquired +Ravenslee rather hurriedly. + +"Oh, yes, Prince, I often see them in my dreams. They just wait till I'm +asleep, an' then they come an' show themselves. Do you ever see any?" + +"Well, your highness, I fancy I have lately, and when fairies are +around, things are sure to happen; wishes get the habit of coming true. +So, little Princess, just go on wishing and dreaming and--watch out!" + +Then Ravenslee turned and followed Hermione out upon the dingy landing; +but as he climbed the stair, there went with him the memory of a little +face, very thin and pale, but radiant and all aglow with rapturous hope. +Silently as they had come they mounted the stairs, until, reaching the +topmost landing, they paused as by mutual consent. + +"Poor little Hazel!" said Hermione very gently, "if only there were real +fairies to spirit her away to where the air is sweet and pure and +flowers grow for little hands to gather--the doctor told me it was her +only chance." + +"Why, then of course she must have her chance!" said Ravenslee with a +sleepy nod. + +"But, Mr. Geoffrey--how?" + +"Well--er--the fairies--you said something about fairies spiriting--" + +"The fairies!" said Hermione a little bitterly, "I guess they are too +busy over their own affairs to trouble about a poor, little, sick child; +besides, what fairy could possibly live five minutes in--Mulligan's?" + +"Which leaves us," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "which leaves us the +beautiful City of Perhaps. It is a wonderful thought, that!" + +"But only a thought!" she sighed. + +"Is it? Are you quite sure?" + +"Well, isn't it?" she questioned wistfully. + +"No!" he answered gravely, "the City of Perhaps is very, very real." + +"What do you mean?" + +Once again their hands touched in the shadow, but this time his fingers +closed upon her hand, the hand that held the medicine bottle, drawing +her nearer in the dimness of that dingy landing. + +"I mean," he answered, "that for every one of us there is a City of +Perhaps waiting to open its gates to our coming, and I am sure we shall +reach it sooner or later, all three of us--the Princess and you and +I--yes, even I, when I have done something worth while. And then, +Hermione, then--nothing shall keep me from--my heart's delight--nothing, +Hermione!" As he ended, she felt an arm about her in the dimness; an arm +fierce and strong that gripped and swept her close--then, as suddenly, +loosed her. For a breathless moment he stood with head bowed in seeming +humility, then, stooping, he crushed her hand, medicine bottle and all, +to lips that burned with anything but humility. + +"Good night, dear Princess Nobody!" he said, and watched her turn away, +nor moved until the door had closed upon her. That night he smoked many +pipes, weaving him fancies of the beautiful City of Perhaps, and dreamed +dreams of what might be, and his eyes glowed bright and wide, and his +mouth grew alternately grim and tender. And, that night, long after he +lay asleep, Hermione's golden head was bowed above her work, but, more +than once she stayed her humming sewing-machine to look at one white +hand with eyes shy and wistful--the hand that had held the medicine +bottle, of course. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +OF A TEXT, A LETTER, AND A SONG + + +Ravenslee opened his eyes to find his small chamber full of a glory of +sun which poured a flood of radiance across his narrow bed; it brought +out the apoplectic roses on the wall paper and lent a new lustre to the +dim and faded gold frame that contained a fly-blown card whereon was the +legend: + +LOVE ONE ANOTHER + +And with his gaze upon this time-honoured text, Ravenslee smiled, and +leaping out of bed proceeded to wash and shave and dress, pausing often +to glance glad-eyed from his open window upon the glory of the new day. +And indeed it was a morning of all-pervading beauty, one such that even +Mulligan's, its dingy bricks and mortar mellowed by the sun, seemed less +unlovely than its wont, and its many windows, catching a sunbeam here +and there, winked and twinkled waggishly. + +So Ravenslee washed and shaved and dressed, glancing now and then from +this transfigured Mulligan's to the fly-blown text upon the wall, and +once he laughed, though not very loudly to be sure, and once he hummed +a song and so fell to soft whistling, all of which was very strange in +Geoffrey Ravenslee. + +The sun, it is true, radiates life and joy; before his beneficence gloom +and depression flee away, and youth and health grow strong to achieve +the impossible; even age and sickness, bathed in his splendour, may +forget awhile their burdens and dream of other days. Truly sunshine is a +thrice blessed thing. And yet, as Ravenslee tied the neckerchief about +his brawny throat, was it by reason of the sun alone that his grey eyes +were so bright and joyous and that he whistled so soft and merrily? + +Having brushed his hair and settled his vivid-hued neckerchief to his +liking, he turned, and stooping over his humble bed, slipped a hand +beneath the tumbled pillow and drew thence a letter; a somewhat crumpled +missive, this, that he had borne about with him all the preceding day +and read and reread at intervals even as he proceeded to do now, as, +standing in the radiant sunbeams, he unfolded a sheet of very ordinary +note paper and slowly scanned these lines written in a bold, flowing +hand: + +Dear Mr. Geoffrey + +I find I must be away from home all this week; will you please watch over +my dear boy for me? Then I shall work with a glad heart. Am I wrong in +asking this of you, I wonder? Anyway, I am + +Your grateful + +Hermione C. + +P.S. I hear you are a peanut man. You!! + +Truly the sun is a thrice-blessed thing--and yet--! Having read this +over with the greatest attention, taking preposterous heed to every dot +and comma, having carefully refolded it, slipped it into the envelope +and hidden it upon his person, he raised his eyes to the spotted text +upon the wall. + +"You're right," quoth he, nodding, "an altogether wise precept and one I +have had by heart ever since she blessed my sight. I must introduce you +to her at the earliest--the very earliest opportunity." + +Then he fell to whistling softly again, and opening the door, stepped +out into the bright little sitting room. Early though it was, Mrs. +Trapes was already astir in her kitchen, and since sunshine is +indubitably a worker of wonders, Mrs. Trapes was singing, rather harshly +to be sure, yet singing nevertheless, and this was her song: + +"Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah, + Obadiah, Obadiah, I am dry. + Said the old Obadiah to the young Obadiah, + Obadiah, Obadiah, so am I. + Said the young--" + +The song ended abruptly as, opening the door, she beheld her lodger. + +"Lordy Lord, Mr. Geoffrey," she exclaimed a little reproachfully, +"whatever are you a-doin' of, up an' dressed an' not half-past five +yet?" + +"Enjoying the morning, Mrs. Trapes, and yearning for my breakfast." + +"Ah, that's just like a man; they're almighty good yearners till +they get what they yearns for--then they yearns for somethin' +else--immediate!" + +"Well, but I suppose women yearn too, sometimes, don't they?" + +"Not they; women can only hope an' sigh an' languish an' break their +hearts in silence, poor dears." + +"What for?" + +"Would a couple o' fresh eggs an' a lovely ham rasher soot ye?" enquired +Mrs. Trapes. + +"They will suit." + +"Then I'll go and fry' em!" + +"And I'll come and look on, if I may," said he, and followed her into +her neat kitchen. + +"And how," said Mrs. Trapes, as she prepared to make the coffee, "how's +the peanut trade, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Flourishing, thanks." + +"The idea of you a-sellin' peanuts!" + +"Well, I've only been guilty of it four days so far, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Anyway, you've disgusted Hermy!" + +"Ah, so you told her, did you?" + +"O' course I did!" + +"And what did she say?" + +"Laughed at first." + +"She has a beautiful laugh!" said Ravenslee musingly. + +"An' then she got thoughtful--" + +"She's loveliest when she's thoughtful, I think," said Ravenslee. + +"An' then she got mad at you an' frowned--" + +"She's very handsome when she frowns!" said Ravenslee. + +"Oh, shucks!" said his landlady, slapping the ham rasher into the pan. + +"And she was very angry, was she?" + +"I should say so!" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "stamped her foot an' got red in +the face--" + +"I love to see her flush!" said Ravenslee musingly again. + +"Said she wondered at you, she did! Said you was a man without any pride +or ambition--an' that's what I say too--peanuts!" + +"They're very wholesome!" he murmured. + +"Sellin' peanuts ain't a man's job, no more than grinding a organ is." + +"There's money in peanuts!" + +"Money!" said Mrs. Trapes, wriggling her elbow joints. "How much did you +make yesterday--come?" + +"Fifty cents." + +"Fifty cents!" she almost screamed, "is that all?" + +"No--pardon me! There were three pimply youths on Forty-second +Street--they brought it up to seventy-five." + +"Only seventy-five cents? But you sold out your stock; Tony told me you +did." + +"Oh, yes, trade was very brisk yesterday." + +"And you sold everything for seventy-five cents?" + +"Not exactly, Mrs. Trapes. You see, the majority of customers on my beat +are very--er--small, and their pecuniary capabilities necessarily +somewhat--shall we say restricted? Consequently, I have adopted +the--er--deferred payment system." + +"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring, "d'ye mean ter say--" + +"That my method of business is strictly--credit." + +"Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm talkin' serious an' don't want none +o' your jokes or jollying." + +"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Well, then, how d' you suppose you can keep a wife and children, maybe, +by selling peanuts that way or any way?" + +"Oh, when I marry I shall probably turn my--attention to--er--other +things, Mrs. Trapes." + +"What things?" + +"Well--to my wife, in the first place." + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, you make me tired!" + +"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, I frequently grow tired of myself." + +Mrs. Trapes turned away to give her attention to the ham. + +"Did ye see that b'y Arthur yesterday?" she enquired presently over her +shoulder. + +"Yes." + +"How's he like his noo job?" + +"Well, I can't say that he seems--er--fired with a passion for it." + +"Office work, ain't it?" + +"I believe it is." + +"Well, you mark my words, that b'y won't keep it a week." + +"Oh, I don't know," said Ravenslee, "he seemed quite content." + +"You took him to the theayter las' night, didn't you? Wastin' your good +money, eh?" + +"Not very much, Mrs. Trapes," said her lodger humbly. + +Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Anyway, it's a good thing you had him safe out o' +the way, as it happens." + +"Why?" + +"Because that loafer M'Ginnis was hanging around for him all the +evenin'. Even had the dratted imperence to come in here an' ask me where +he was." + +"And what did you tell him?" + +"Tell him?" she repeated. "What did I not tell him!" Her voice was +gentle, but what words could convey all the quivering ferocity of her +elbows! "Mr. Geoffrey, I told Bud M'Ginnis just exactly what kind o' a +beast Bud M'Ginnis is. I told Bud M'Ginnis where Bud M'Ginnis come from +an' where Bud M'Ginnis would go to. I told Bud M'Ginnis the character of +his mother an' father, very plain an' p'inted." + +"And what did he say?" + +"He say! Mr. Geoffrey, I didn't give him a chance to utter a single +word, of course. An' when I'd said all there was to say, I picked up my +heaviest flatiron, as happened to be handy, an' ordered him out; and Mr. +Geoffrey, Bud M'Ginnis--went!" + +"Under the circumstances," said Ravenslee, "I'm not surprised that he +did." + +"Ah, but he'll come back again, Mr. Geoffrey; he'll find Arthur alone +next time, an' Arthur'll go along with him, and then--good night! The +b'y'll get drunk an' lose his job like he did last time." + +"Why, then, he mustn't find Arthur alone." + +"And who's t' stop him?" + +"I." + +"Mr. Geoffrey, you're big an' strong, but M'Ginnis is stronger--and +yet--" Mrs. Trapes ran a speculative eye over Ravenslee's lounging form. +"H'm!" said she musingly, "but even if you did happen to lick him, what +about th' gang?" + +"Echo, Mrs. Trapes, promptly answers, 'what'?" + +"Well, Mr. Geoffrey, I can tell ye there's been more 'n one poor feller +killed around here to my knowing--yes, sir!" + +"But the police?" + +"Perlice!" snorted Mrs. Trapes. "M'Ginnis an' his father have a big pull +with Tammany, an' Tammany is the perlice. Anyways, Mr. Geoffrey, don't +you go having no trouble with Bud M'Ginnis; leave him to some one as is +as much a brute-beast as he is." + +"But then--what of Spike?" + +"Oh, drat him! If Arthur ain't got the horse sense to know who's his +worst enemy, he ain't worth a clean man riskin' his life over--for it +would be your life you'd risk, Mr. Geoffrey--mark my words!" + +"Mrs. Trapes, your anxiety on my account flatters me, also I'm glad to +know you think me a clean man. But all men must take risks--some for +money, some for honour, and some for the pure love of it. Personally, I +rather like a little risk--just a suspicion, if it's for something worth +while." + +"Mr. Geoffrey, what are you gettin' at?" + +"Well, I would remind you that Spike has--a sister!" + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Trapes, and her lined face took on a sudden anxious +expression. + +"Therefore, I've been contemplating--er--tackling Mr. M'Ginnis--at a +proper and auspicious time, of course." + +"An' what o' the gang?" + +"Oh, drat the gang, Mrs. Trapes." + +"But you don't mean as you'd fight M'Ginnis?" + +"Well--er--the thought has occurred to me, Mrs. Trapes, though I'm quite +undecided on the matter, and--er--I believe my breakfast is burning!" + +"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, turning to snatch the pan from the +stove, "I'm afraid the fire's ketched it a bit, Mr. Geoffrey--" + +"No matter." + +"An' now there's the coffee b'ilin' over!" + +"Let me help you," said Ravenslee, rising. + +"Anyway, your breakfast's ready, so come an' eat it while it's good an' +hot." + +"On condition that you eat with me." + +"What, eat wi' you, Mr. Geoffrey--in my best parlour--an' me in me +workin' clo'es?" + +"Ah, to be sure--not to be thought of, Mrs. Trapes; then we'll breakfast +here in the kitchen." + +"Would ye mind?" + +"Should love it." + +So down they sat together, and Ravenslee vowed the ham was all ham +should be and the eggs beyond praise. And when his hunger was somewhat +appeased, Mrs. Trapes leaned her bony elbows on the table and questioned +him. + +"You ain't ever spoke to Hermy, have you, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Very often, lately." + +"I mean--you ain't opened your 'eart to her--matrimonially, have you?" + +"No!" + +"Why, then, I'll tell you what--there's been times when I've been afraid +that for the sake o' that b'y she'd sacrifice herself to Bud M'Ginnis." + +"No, she would never do that, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Oh, but she would." + +"But, you see, she couldn't!" + +"And why not?" + +"Oh, well, because--er--I should kill him first." + +"Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey!" and Mrs. Trapes actually blenched before the +glare in his eyes that was so strangely at odds with his soft, lazy +tones. + +"And that ends it!" he nodded. "Mrs. Trapes, I've made up my mind!" + +"What about?" + +"Mr. M'Ginnis. I'll begin to-day." + +"Begin what?" + +"To prepare myself to bestow on him the thrashing of his life!" So +saying, Ravenslee stretched lazily and finally got up. "Good morning, +Mrs. Trapes!" said he. + +"But where are ye going?" she demanded. + +"To my peanuts," he answered gravely. "'Man is born to labour,' you, +know." + +"But it's early yet." + +"But I have much to do--and she laughed at me for being a peanut man, +did she, Mrs. Trapes--she frowned and flushed and stamped her pretty +foot at me, did she?" + +"She did so, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"I'm glad!" he answered. "Yes, I'm very glad she frowned and stamped +her foot at me. By the way, I like that text in my bedroom." + +"Text?" said Mrs. Trapes, staring. + +"'Love one another,'" he nodded. "It is a very--very beautiful +sentiment--sometimes. Anyway, I'm glad she frowned and stamped at me, +Mrs. Trapes; you can tell her I said so if you happen to think of it +when she comes home." And Ravenslee smiled, and turning away, was gone. + +"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, staring at the closed door, "of all the--well, +well!" Then she sighed, shook her head, and fell to washing up the +breakfast things. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +WHICH INTRODUCES JOE AND THE OLD UN + + +The clocks were striking nine as, according to his custom of late, +Geoffrey Ravenslee trundled his barrow blithely along Thirty-eighth +Street, halting now and then at the shrill, imperious summons of some +small customer, or by reason of the congestion of early traffic, or to +swear whole-heartedly and be sworn at by some indignant Jehu. At length +he came to Eleventh Avenue and to a certain quarter where the whistle of +a peanut barrow was seldom heard, and peanuts were a luxury. + +And here, in a dismal, small street hard by the river, behold Ravenslee +halt his gaily painted pushcart, whereat a shrill clamour arises that +swells upon the air, a joyous babel; and forth from small and dismal +homes, from narrow courts and the purlieus adjacent, his customers +appear. They race, they gambol, they run and toddle, for these customers +are very small and tender and grimy, but each small face is alight with +joyous welcome, and they hail him with rapturous acclaim. Even the few +tired-looking mothers, peeping from windows or glancing from doorways, +smile and nod and forget awhile their weariness in the children's +delight, as Ravenslee, the battered hat cocked at knowing angle, +proceeds to "business." Shrill voices supplicate him, little feet patter +close around him, small hands, eagerly outstretched, appeal to him. Anon +rise shrieks and infantile crowings of delight as each small hand is +drawn back grasping a plump paper bag--shrieks and crowings that +languish and die away, one by one, since no human child may shriek +properly and chew peanuts at one and the same time. And in a while, his +stock greatly diminished, Ravenslee trundles off and leaves behind him +women who smile still and small boys and girls who munch in a rapturous +silence. + +On he went, his oven whistling soft and shrill, his long legs striding +between the shafts, until, reaching a certain bleak corner, he halted +again, though to be sure there were few people hereabouts and no +children. But upon the opposite corner was a saloon, with a large annex +and many outbuildings behind, backing upon the river, and Ravenslee, +lounging on the handles of his barrow, examined this unlovely building +with keen eye from beneath his hat brim, for above the swing doors +appeared the words: + +O'ROURKE'S SALOON + +He was in the act of lighting his pipe when the doors of the saloon were +swung open, and three men came out, in one of whom he recognised the +tall, powerful figure and broad shoulders of Bud M'Ginnis; his +companions were remarkable, but in very opposite ways, the one being +slender and youthful and very smartly dressed, with a face which, +despite its seeming youth, was strangely haggard and of an unhealthy +pallor, while the other was plethoric, red-faced and middle-aged, a man +hoarse of voice and roughly clad, and Ravenslee noticed that this fellow +lacked the upper half of one ear. + +"Saturday night, mind!" said M'Ginnis, loud and authoritative. + +"But say, Bud," demanded the smartly dressed youth, "what's coming to us +on that last deal?" + +"Nix--that's what you get, Soapy!" The youth's pale cheek grew livid. + +"So you've got the deck stacked against us, eh, Bud?" said he. + +"I got a close mouth, Soapy, I guess you don't want me t' open it very +wide--now or any other old time. Saturday night, mind!" and nodding, +M'Ginnis turned away. The youth looked after him with venomous eyes, +and his right hand made a sinister movement toward his hip pocket. + +"Aw--quit it; are ye crazy?" grunted his companion. "Bud's got us +cinched." + +"Got us--hell!" snarled the youth. "Bud's askin' for it, an' some day +he's goin' t' get it--good!" + +Toward afternoon, Ravenslee was trundling light-heartedly eastward, +his barrow emptied to the last peanut. Having reached Fifth Avenue, +he paused to mop his perspiring brow when a long, low automobile, +powerfully engined, that was creeping along behind, pulled up with a +sudden jerk, and its driver, whose immense shoulders were clad in a very +smart livery, pushed up the peak of his smart cap to run his fingers +through his close-cropped hair, while his mild blue eyes grew very wide +and round. + +"Crikey!" said he at last. "Is that you, sir, or ain't it?" + +"How much?" demanded Ravenslee gruffly. + +"Crumbs!" said the chauffeur. "Sir, if you--ain't you, all I say is--I +ain't me!" + +"Aw--what's bitin' ye, bo?" growled Ravenslee. + +"Well, if this ain't the rummest go, I'm a perisher!" + +"Say, now, crank up d' machine an' beat it while d' goin' 's good. How's +that, Joe?" + +"Lord, Mr. Ravenslee--so you are my guv'nor, and blow me tight--shoving +a barrer! I knowed it was you, sir; leastways I knowed your legs an' the +set o' them shoulders, but--with a barrer! Excuse me, sir, but the idea +o' you pushing a perishing peanut barrer so gay an' 'appy-'earted--well, +all I can say is love-a-duck!" + +"Well now, cut along, Joe, and get ready. I mean to put in some real +hard work with you this afternoon." + +"Right-o, sir!" nodded Joe eagerly. "Lord, but we've missed you +terrible--the Old Un an' me." + +"Glad of it, Joe! Tell Patterson to have my bath ready when we've +finished. Off with you--drive in the Fifth Avenue entrance." + +Joe nodded, and the big car turned and crept silently away, while +Ravenslee, trundling onward, turned off to the left and so into a very +large, exceedingly neat garage where stood five or six automobiles of +various patterns in one of which, a luxurious limousine, an old, old man +snored blissfully. At the rumble of the barrow, however, this ancient +being choked upon a snore, coughed, swore plaintively, and finally sat +up. Perceiving Ravenslee, he blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stepping from +the car very nimbly despite his years, faced the intruder with a +ferocious scowl. + +He was indeed a very ancient man, though very nattily dressed from +spotless collar to shiny patent leather shoes, a small, dandified, +bright-eyed man whose broken nose and battered features bore eloquent +testimony to long and hard usage. + +"'Ook it!" he croaked, with square bony jaw fiercely outthrust. "We +don't want no peanuts 'ere, d'j 'ear? 'Op off, 'ook it before I break +every blessed bone in yer bloomin' body!" + +"What, Old Un, don't you know me, either?" + +"Lumme!" exclaimed the little old man, blinking beneath hoary brows. +"Ho, lor' lumme, it's 'im! Blimy, it's the Guv'nor--'ow do, Guv!" and +shooting immaculate cuffs over bony wrists he extended a clawlike hand. + +"How are you, Old Un?" + +"Well, sir, what with the rheumatix an' a stiff j'int or two an' a touch +o' lumbager, not to mention all my other ailments, I ain't quite s' spry +as I was!" + +"But you look very well!" + +"That's where your heyes deceives you, Guv. A great sufferer I be, +though patient under haffliction, ho, yus--except for a swear now an' +then which do me a power o' good--yus! If I was to tell you all the woes +as my poor old carkiss is hair to, you could write a book on 'em--a big +'un. I got everything the matter wi' me, I 'ave, from a thick ear an' +broke nose as I took in Brummagem sixty an' five years ago to a hactive +liver." + +"A what?" enquired Ravenslee. + +"A hactive liver. Lord, Guv, my liver gets that hactive lately as I +can't set still--Joe knows, ax Joe! All as I ain't got o' human woes is +toothache, not 'avin' no teeth to ache, y' see, an' them s' rotten as it +'ud make yer 'eart bleed. An' then I get took short o' breath--look at +me now, dang it!" + +"Why, then, sit down, Old Un," said Ravenslee, drawing up a somewhat +worn armchair. "Joe and I are going at it hard and fast this afternoon, +and I want you to time the rounds." And he proceeded to remove his +garments. + +"Oh, j'y!" cried the Old Un, hugging himself in bony arms. "Oh, j'yful +words. Ah, but you peels like a good un, sir," he croaked, viewing white +flesh and bulging muscle with knowing old eyes, "good an' long in the +arm an' wide slope o' shoulder. You might ha' done well in the ring if +you'd been blessed wi' poverty an' I'd 'ad the 'andling of ye--a world's +unbeat champion, like Joe. A good fighter were I an' a wonnerful +trainer! Ho, yus, I might ha' made a top-notcher of ye if you 'adn't +been cursed wi' money." + +"I suppose," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "I suppose Joe was one of the +best all-round fighting men that ever climbed into a ring?" + +"Ah--that 'e were! Joe were better 'n the best--only don't let 'im +'ear me say so, 'e 'd be that puffed up--Lord! But nobody could beat +Joe--black, yaller or white; they all tried danged 'ard, but Joe were a +world-beater--y' see, I trained Joe! An' to-day 'e 's as good as ever 'e +was. Y' see, Joe's allus lived clean, sir, consequent Joe's sound, +wind an' limb. Joe could go back an' beat all these fancy bruisers and +stringy young champs to-day--if 'e only would--but don't let 'im 'ear me +say so." + +"You're fond of Joe, Old Un?" + +"An' why for not, sir--s' long as 'e don't know it? Didn't 'e look arter +poor old me when 'e 'ad money, an' when 'e lost everything, didn't 'e +look arter me still? An' now 'e 's your shuvver, don' 'e keep a roof +over me poor old 'ead like a son--don't 'e give me the run o' jour +garridge an' let me watch 'im spar wi' you an' your gentlemen friends? +Ain't 'e the best an' truest-'earted man as ever drawed breath? Ah, a +king o' men is Joe, in the ring an' out, sir--only never let 'im 'ear me +say so--'e 'd be that proud, Lord! there'd be no livin' wi' 'im--sh, +'ere 'e be, sir." + +Joe had laid by his chauffeur's garb and looked even bigger and grimmer +in flannels and sweater. + +"Ho you, Joe," cried the old man, scowling, "did ye bring me that +'bacca?" + +"S'posin' I didn't?" demanded Joe. + +"Then dang ye--twice!" + +"An' s'posin' I did?" + +"Then--give it 'ere!" + +"An' that's his gratitood, sir!" growled Joe, shaking his head and +giving the packet into the old man's clutching fingers. "A unnat'ral old +bag-o'-bones, that's what 'e is, sir!" + +"Bones!" croaked the Old Un viciously. "Bag-o'-bones am I? Yah--look at +ye'self--pork, that's what you are, all run to pork an' blubber an' fat, +Joe, me pore lad--" + +"Fat!" growled Joe. "Y' know I ain't fat; y' know I'm as good a man as +ever I was--look at that, you old sarpent!" And he smote himself with +mighty fist--a blow to fell an ox. "Fat, am I?" + +"As--lard!" nodded the old man, filling half an inch of blackened clay +pipe with trembling fingers, "as a 'og--" + +"Now my crumbs--" began Joe fiercely. + +"You're flabby an' soft, me pore lad," grinned the old man. "Flabby as a +babby an' soft as a woman an' fat as a--" + +Joe reached out very suddenly, and picking up the old man, armchair and +all, shook him to and fro until he croaked for mercy. + +"Lor' gorramighty!" he panted, as Joe set him down again. + +"Fat, am I?" demanded Joe, scowling. + +"Fat as a 'og--fat as forty bloomin' 'ogs!" cried the old man +vindictively. "An' what's more, your wind's all gone--you couldn't go +five rounds wi' a good 'un!" + +"Couldn't I?" + +"No!" shrieked the Old Un, "you'd be 'anging on an' blowing like a +grampus!" + +"Should I?" + +"Ah--like a grampus!" + +"Right-o!" nodded Joe, turning away, "no jam for _your_ tea to-night." + +"Eh, what--what, would ye rob a pore old man of 'is jam, Joe--a pore +afflicted old cove as is dependent on ye 'and an' fut, Joe--a pore old +gaffer as you've just shook up to that degree as 'is pore old liver is +a-bobbin' about in 'is innards like a jelly. Joe, ye couldn't be so +'eartless!" + +"Ah, but I can!" nodded Joe. "An' if ye give me any more lip, it'll be +no sugar in ye tea--" + +"No sugar!" wailed the Old Un, then clenching a trembling old fist, he +shook it in Joe's scowling face. "Then dang ye--three times!" he cried. +"What's the old song say? + +"'Dang the man with three times three + Who in 'is 'eathen rage + Can 'arm a 'armless man like me + Who's 'ead is bowed wi' age!' + +"An' there's for ye. Now listen again: + +"'Some men is this an' some is that, + But 'ere's a truth I know: + A fightin' cove who's run to fat + Is bound t' puff an' blow!' + +"An' there's for ye again!" + +Saying which, the Old Un nodded ferociously and proceeded to light his +fragmentary pipe. During this colloquy Ravenslee had laid by his shabby +clothes and now appeared clad and shod for the ring. + +"Sir," said Joe, taking a set of gloves from a locker, "if you are ready +to box a round or so--" + +"Why, no," answered Ravenslee, "I don't want to box to-day, Joe." + +"Eh?" said Joe, staring, "not?" + +"I want to fight, Joe." + +"To--fight, sir?" repeated Joe. + +"Fight?" cried the Old Un rapturously. "Oh, music--sweet music t' me old +ears! Fight? Oh, j'yful words! What's the old song say? + +"''Appy is the first as goes + To black a eye or punch a nose!'" + +"Get the mufflers on, Joe; get 'em on an' don't stand staring like a +fool!" + +"But, sir," said Joe, his mild eyes kindling, "d' ye mean as you +want--the real thing?" + +"To-day," said Ravenslee, "instead of boxing a round or two with Joe +Madden, my chauffeur and mechanic, I want to see how long I can stand up +to Joe Madden, undefeated champion of the world." + +Joe's lean cheek flushed and he looked Ravenslee over with eyes of +yearning; noted the thin flanks and slender legs that showed speed, the +breadth of shoulder and long arms that spoke strength, and the deep, +arched chest that showed endurance; Joe looked and sighed and shook his +head. + +"Sir," said he, "I honour and respect you to that degree as it would be +a joy to fight such a man as you and a rare privilege t' knock you +down--but, sir, if I was to knock ye down--" + +"You'd earn a five-dollar bill." + +"Five dollars--for knockin' you down, sir?" + +"Every time!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"But Lord, sir--" + +"Shut up, Joe, shut up," snarled the Old Un, hopping out of the +armchair. "Don't gape like a perishin' fish; come on up-stairs an' knock +the Guv'nor down like 'e tells ye--an' 'arves on the money, mind; it was +me as taught ye all you know or ever will, so 'arves on the money, Joe, +'arves on the money. Come on, Joe--d'j 'ear?" + +"Crumbs!" said Joe. + +"Look at 'im. Guv--look at 'im!" shrieked the old man, dancing to and +fro in his impatience, "'ere's a chance for 'im to earn a pore old cove +a bit o' 'bacca money, an', what's better still, t' show a pore old +fightin' man a bit o' real sport--an' there 'e stands, staring like a +perishing pork pig! Blimy, Guv, get behind an' 'elp me to shove 'im +up-stairs." + +"But, crikey, sir!" said Joe, "five dollars every time I--" + +"Yus, yus, you bloomin' hadjective--two dollars fifty for each of us! +'Urry up, oh, 'urry up afore 'e changes 'is mind an' begins to 'edge." + +So Joe follows his "Guv'nor" and the Old Un up a flight of stairs and +into a large chamber fitted as a gymnasium, where are four roped and +padded posts socketed into the floor; close by is a high-backed armchair +in which the Old Un seats himself with an air of heavy portent. + +But when Joe would have ducked under the ropes, the Old Un stayed him +with an imperious gesture, and, clambering into the ring, advanced to +the centre and bowed gravely as if to a countless multitude. + +"Gentlemen," he piped in his shrill old voice, "I take pleasure to +introduce Joe Madden, undefeated 'eavyweight champion o' the world, an' +the Guv--both members of this club an' both trained by me, Jack Bowser, +once lightweight champion of England an' hall the Americas. Gentlemen, +it will be a fight to a finish--Markis o' Queensberry rules. +Gentlemen--I thank ye." Having said which, the Old Un bowed again, +gravely stepped from the ring, and ensconcing himself in the armchair, +drew out a large and highly ornate watch, while Ravenslee and Joe +vaulted over the ropes. + +Behold them facing each other, the brown-skinned fighting man wise in +ringcraft and champion of a hundred fights, and the white-fleshed +athlete, each alike clean and bright of eye, light-poised of foot, +quivering for swift action, while the Old Un looks needfully from one to +the other, watch in one bony hand, the other upraised. + +"Get ready!" he croaked. "Go!" + +Comes immediately a quick, light tread of rubber-soled feet and the +flash of white arms as they circle about and about, feinting, watchful +and wary. Twice Ravenslee's fist shoots out and twice is blocked by +Joe's open glove, and once he ducks a vicious swing and lands a half-arm +jolt that makes Joe grin and stagger, whereat the Old Un, standing upon +his chair, hugs himself in an ecstasy, and forgetful of such small +matters as five-dollar bills, urges, prays, beseeches, and implores the +Guv to "wallop the blighter on the p'int, to stab 'im on the mark, and +to jolt 'im in the kidney-pit." + +"Go it, Guv!" he shrieked, "go it! In an' out again, that's +it--Gorramighty, I never see sich speed. Oh, keep at 'im, Guv--make 'im +cover up--sock it into 'im, Guv! Ho, lumme, what footwork--you're as +quick as lightweights--oh, 'appy, 'appy day! Go to it, both on ye!" + +And "to it" they went, with jabs and jolts, hooks and swings, with +cunning feints and lightning counters until the place echoed and +reechoed to the swift tramp of feet and dull thudding of blows, while +the Old Un, hugging himself in long, bony arms, chuckled and choked and +rocked himself to and fro in an ecstasy; moreover, when Joe, uttering a +grunt, reeled back against the ropes, the Old Un must needs shriek and +dance and crow with delight until, bethinking him of his duty, he +checked his excitement, seated himself in the armchair again, and +announced: "Time! End o' round one." + +And it is to be noticed that as they sit down to take their two minutes' +rest, neither Ravenslee nor Joe, for all their exertions, seem unduly +distressed in their breathing. + +"Sir," says Joe, looking his pupil over, "you're uncommon quick on your +pins; never knowed a quicker--did you, Old Un?" + +"No, me lad--never in all me days!" + +"An' you've sure-ly got a punch, sir. Ain't 'e, Old Un?" + +"Like a perishin' triphammer!" nodded the Old Un. "Likewise, sir, you've +a wonderful judgment o' distance--but, sir, you need experience!" + +"That's what I'm after, Joe." + +"And you take too many chances; you ain't larned caution yet." + +"That you must teach me, Joe." + +"Which I surely will, sir. In the next round, subject to no objection, I +propose to knock ye down, sir." + +"Which means two dollars fifty for each on us, Joe--mind that," added +the Old Un. + +"So fight more cautious, sir, do," pleaded Joe, "and--look out." + +"Time!" croaked the Old Un. "Round two! And Guv, look out for yer p'int, +cover yer mark, an' keep a heye on yer kidney-pit!" + +Once again they faced each other, but this time it was Joe who circled +quick and catlike, massive shoulders bowed, knees bent, craggy chin grim +and firm-set, but blue eyes serene and mild as ever. A moment's silent +sparring, a quick tread of feet, and Joe feints Ravenslee into an +opening, swings for his chin, misses by an inch, and ducking a vicious +counter, drives home a smashing body-blow and, staggering weakly, +Ravenslee goes down full length. + +"Shook ye up a bit, sir?" enquired Joe, running up with hands +outstretched, "take a rest, now do, sir." + +"No, no," answered Ravenslee, springing to his feet, "the Old Un hasn't +called 'Time' yet." + +"Not me!" piped the old man, "not bloomin' likely! Go to it, both on +ye--mind, that's two-fifty for me, Joe!" + +What need is there to tell the numerous feints, the lightning shifts, +the different tricks of in-fighting and all the cunning strategy and +ringcraft that Joe brought to bear and carefully explained between +rounds? Suffice it that at the end of a certain fierce "mix up", as +Ravenslee sat outstretched and panting, the white flesh of arms and +broad chest discovered many livid marks and patches that told their +tale; also one elbow was grazed and bleeding, and one knee showed signs +of contact with the floor. + +"Joe," said he, when his wind was somewhat recovered, "that makes it +thirty dollars I owe you, I think?" + +"Why, sir," said Joe, who also showed some slight signs of wear, but +whose breathing was soft and regular, "why, sir, you couldn't call that +last one a real knockdown--" + +"You 'm a liar, Joe, a liar!" cried the Old Un. "Blimy, Guv, Joe's +a-tellin' you crackers, s' help me--your 'ands touched the floor, didn't +they?" + +"And my knees, too," nodded Ravenslee, "also my elbow--no, that was last +time or the time before." + +"Well, then, tell this lying Joe-lad o' mine as 'e surely did knock ye +down. Lord, Joe!" cried the Old Un, waxing pathetic, "'ow can ye go +takin' money from a pore old cove like I be. Joe, I blushes for +ye--an'--Time, Time there, both on ye!" + +"But we don't want any more, do we, sir?" enquired Joe. + +"Why, yes, I think I can go another round or so." + +"There y' are, Joe, the Guv's surely a game cove. So get at it, me lad, +an' try an' knock it up to fifty dollars--'arves, Joe, mind!" + +"But, sir," began Joe, eyeing the livid blotches on Ravenslee's white +skin, "don't ye think--" + +"Time--oh, Time, Time!" shrieked the Old Un. Whereupon Ravenslee sprang +to the centre of the ring, and once again the air resounded with tramp +of feet and pant of breath. Twice Ravenslee staggers beneath Joe's +mighty left, but watchful ever and having learned much, Ravenslee keeps +away, biding his time--ducks a swing, sidesteps a drive, and blocking a +vicious hook--smacks home his long left to Joe's ribs, rocks him with a +swinging uppercut, drives in a lightning left and right, and Joe goes +down with a crash. + +Even while the Old Un stared in wide-eyed, gaping amaze, Joe was on his +feet again, serene and calm as ever, only his great chest laboured +somewhat, but Ravenslee shook his head. + +"I guess that'll be about enough, Joe," said he. + +"Guv," cried the Old Un, seizing Ravenslee's right hand, boxing glove +and all, and shaking it to and fro, "you're a credit to us, you do us +bloomin' proud--strike me pink, ye do! 'Ere 's Joe 'ammered you an' +'ammered you--look at your bloomin' chest--lumme! 'Ere 's Joe been +knockin' ye down an' knockin' ye down, an' you comin' up smilin' for +more an' gettin' it--'ere's Joe been a-poundin' of ye all over the ring, +yet you can finish strong an' speedy enough to put Joe down--blimy, Guv, +you're a wonder an' no error!" + +"I don't think Joe fought his hardest, Old Un." + +"If 'e didn't," cried the old man, "I'll punch 'im on the nose so 'e +won't never smell nothink no more." + +"Sir," said Joe, "in the first round p'raps I did go a bit easylike, but +arter that I came at you as 'ard an' 'eavy as I could. I 'it you where +an' 'ow I could, barrin' your face." + +"I hope I shall soon be good enough for you to go for my face as well, +Joe." + +"But, sir--if I give you a black eye--" + +"How will--say, ten dollars do?" + +"Ten dollars! For blacking your eye, sir?" + +"Lumme, Joe!" cried the Old Un, "get back into the ring and black 'em +both--" + +"Shut up!" said Joe, scowling down into the Old Un's eager face, "you +'eartless old bloodsucker, you!" + +"Bloodsucker!" screamed the old man, "w'ot, me? I'll punch you on the +ear-'ole, Joe, so's you never 'ear nothin' no more." + +"Are you on, Joe?" asked Ravenslee, while the Old Un, swearing softly, +unlaced his gloves. + +"But, crumbs, sir--axin' your pardon, things'll come a bit expensive, +won't they? Y' see--" + +"So much the better, ye blighted perisher!" snarled the Old Un, "an' +don't forget as the Guv owes you thirty dollars a'ready--an' 'arves, +mind." + +"Stow it, you old bag o' wickedness--" + +"Bag o'--" the Old Un let fall the boxing gloves and turning on Joe, +reached up and shook a feeble old fist under the champion's massive +chin. "Look at this, me lad--look at this!" he croaked. "Some day I +shall ketch you sich a perishin' punch as'll double ye up till kingdom +come, me lad, and--Lord, the Guv's countin' out our money--" + +"Thirty of 'em, Joe," said Ravenslee, holding out a wad of bills. + +"Why, sir," said Joe, backing away, "axing yer pardon, but I'd rayther +not--you give me such uncommon good wages, sir, and a bonus every race +we run, win or lose--so, sir, I--I'd rayther not--" + +"Not?" cried the Old Un, "not take money as is 'arf mine--Oh, kick 'im, +somebody--kick 'im! Pound 'im for a pigeon-'earted perishin' pork pig--" + +"That'll be no sugar in your tea t'night, old viciousness! But, sir, I'd +rayther not--" + +"Don't 'eed 'im, Guv--don't 'eed the flappin' flounder. If 'e wont +obleege ye in a little matter like thirty dollars, I will--I'll always +obleege you--" + +"That's enough from you, old tombstones." + +"Tombstones!" hissed the Old Un, scowling darkly and squaring his +trembling fists, "all right, me lad, 'ere 's where I ketch ye one as'll +flatten ye out till the day o' doom--" + +Hereupon Joe caught him above the elbows, and lifting him in mighty +hands that yet were gentle, seated the snarling old fellow in the +armchair. + +"Old Un," said he, shaking his finger, "if ye give me any more of +it--off t' bed I take ye without any tea at all!" The Old Un, cowering +beneath that portentous finger, swore plaintively and promptly subsided. + +"And now," said Ravenslee, thrusting the money into Joe's reluctant +hand, "when I make a bargain, I generally keep it. I wish all my money +had been spent to such good purpose." + +"What about me?" whined the old man humbly, "don't I get none, Joe-lad?" + +"Not a cent, you old rasper!" + +"Blimy, Guv, you won't forget a old cove as 'ud shed 'is best blood for +ye?" + +"The Guv'nor don't want yer blood, old skin-and-bones. And now, come on, +sir--" + +"Stay a minute, Joe, the Old Un generally keeps time for us when we spar +rounds." + +"That I do, Guv," cried the old man, "an' give ye advice worth its +weight in solid gold; you owe me a lot, s' 'elp me." + +"About how much?" + +"Well, Guv, I ain't got me ledger-book 'andy, but roughly speakin' I +should say about five or six 'undred dollars. But seein' you 's you an' +I'm me--a old man true-'earted as never crossed nobody--let's +say--fifteen dollars." + +"Why, you old--thievin'--vagabone!" gasped Joe, as Ravenslee gravely +handed over the money. + +"Vagabone yourself!" said the Old Un, counting the bills over in +trembling fingers. "The Guv wants a bath--take 'im away--'ook it, d'j +'ear?" + +"Has Patterson got everything ready, Joe?" enquired Ravenslee, taking up +his clothes. + +"No, sir," mumbled Joe, "but I'll have ye bath ready in a jiffy, sir." + +"But where's Patterson?" + +"Well, 'e--'e 's out, sir." + +"And the footmen?" + +"They're out, sir." + +"Oh! And the housekeeper--er--what's her name--Mrs. Smythe?" + +"Gone to call on her relations, sir." + +"Ah! And the maids?" + +"Mrs. Smythe give 'em leave of habsence, sir. Y' see, sir," said Joe +apologetically, "you're 'ere so seldom, sir." + +"My servants are not exactly--er--worked to death, Joe?" + +"No, sir." + +"Manage to look after themselves quite well?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"It seems I need some one to look after them--and me." + +"Yes, sir." + +"A woman, Joe--one I can trust and honour and--what d' ye think?" + +"I think--er--yes, sir." + +"Well--what do you suggest?" + +"Marry her, sir." + +"Joe, that's a great idea! Shake hands! I surely will marry her--at +once--if she'll have me." + +"She'll have you, sir." + +"Do you really think she will, Joe?" + +"I'm dead certain, sir." + +"Joe, shake again. I'll speak to her when she comes home. To-morrow's +Saturday, isn't it?" + +"As ever was, sir." + +"Then, Joe--wish me luck; I'll ask her--to-morrow!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +OF THE FIRST AND SECOND PERSONS, SINGULAR NUMBER + + +It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was making a pie and looking +uncommonly handsome about it and altogether feminine and adorable; at +least, so Ravenslee thought, as he watched her bending above the pastry +board, her round, white arms bared to each dimpled elbow, and the +rebellious curl wantoning at her temple as usual. + +"But why kidneys, my dear?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from the +potatoes she was peeling. "Kidneys is rose again; kidneys is always +risin', it seems to me. If you must have pie, why not good, plain +beefsteak? It's jest as fillin' an' cheaper, my dear--so why an' +wherefore kidneys?" + +"Arthur likes them, and he'll be hungry when he comes in--" + +"Hungry," snorted Mrs. Trapes, "that b'y's been hungry ever since he +drawed the breath o' life. How's he gettin' on with his new job?" + +"Oh, splendidly!" cried Hermione, flushing with sisterly pride, "they've +promised him a raise next month." + +"What, already?" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, cutting viciously into a potato. +"If he don't watch out, they'll be makin' him a partner next." + +"Oh, Ann, I wish you were not quite so--so hard on him!" sighed +Hermione. "Remember, he's only a boy!" + +"You were a woman at his age, earning enough t' keep ye both--but there! +I don't mean t' be hard, Hermy; anyway, a man's never much good till +he's growed up, and then only because some woman teaches him how t' be." + +"What do you say to that, Mr. Geoffrey?" enquired Hermione, pausing, +flour-dredger in hand, to glance at him slily under her brows. + +"I think Mrs. Trapes is a wonderful woman," he answered. + +"Ah, now, Mr. Geoffrey, quit y'r jollying," said Mrs. Trapes, smiling at +the potato. + +"Mrs. Trapes has taught me much wisdom already and, among other things, +that I shall never be or do anything worth the while without the aid of +a woman--" + +"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey, I never remember sayin' no sich thing!" + +"Not in so many words, perhaps, but you implied it, Mrs. Trapes." + +"H'm!" said Mrs. Trapes dubiously. + +"Consequently, I mean to ask that woman--on the very first opportunity, +Miss Hermione." Seeing that Hermione was silent, all her attention being +centred in the dough her white fists were kneading, Mrs. Trapes spoke +instead. + +"D' ye mean as you want some one t' look after you--to sew an' cook an' +wash an' sew buttons on for ye--I know the sort!" + +"I certainly do, and--" + +"Ah, it's a slave you want, Mr. Geoffrey, and peanut men don't have +slaves--not unless they marries 'em, and a woman as would marry a peanut +man has only herself t' blame--peanuts!" + +Hermione laughed, reached for the rolling-pin, and immediately fell to +work with it, her head stooped rather lower than was necessary. As for +Ravenslee, he lounged in his chair, watching the play of those round, +white arms. + +"But why the kidneys, Hermy? You've got to cut out luxuries now, my +dear--we all have, I guess; it'll be dry bread next, I reckon." + +"Why so?" enquired Ravenslee lazily. + +"Why?" cried Mrs. Trapes bitterly, "I'll tell you why--because me an' +Hermy an' every one else is bein' squeezed dry t' fill the pockets of a +thing as calls itself a man--a thievin' beast on two legs as is suckin' +our blood, gnawin' our flesh, grindin' the life out of us--a great fat +man as is treadin' us down under his great boots, down an' down to +slavery--death--an' worse--it's such men as him as keeps the flames of +hell goin'--fat frizzles well, an' so will Mulligan, I hope!" + +"Mulligan?" enquired Ravenslee. + +"He's raised the rents on us, Mr. Geoffrey," sighed Hermione. + +"Raised the rents?" said Ravenslee, forgetting to lounge. + +"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes grimly. "I guess he thinks we live too easy +an' luxoorious, so he's boosted it up a dollar per. A dollar a week +don't sound a whole lot, p'raps, but it sure takes some gettin'; folks +expects a deal o' scrubbin' an' sewin' an' slavin' for a dollar--yes, +sir." + +"We shall have to work a little harder, that's all, Ann dear." + +"Harder? I guess you work hard enough for two--an' who gets the benefit? +Why, Mulligan does. Oh, it's a great comfort t' remember the flames of +hell, sometimes. Lord, when I think how we have t' slave t' make enough +t' live--" + +"There are others worse than us, Ann." + +"Why, yes, there's poor Mrs. Finlay; she's got to go, an' her husband +paralysed! There's little Mrs. Bowker sewed herself pretty well blind t' +keep her home together--she's got to go. There's Mrs. Sims with all +those children, and the--but there, who cares for the likes o' them--who +cares, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? An' what might you be dreamin' over this time?" +she enquired, eyeing Ravenslee's long figure a little contemptuously, +for he had fallen to lounging again, sleepy eyes half closed. + +"I was thinking what a lot of interest we might find in this busy +world--if we only would take the trouble to look for it!" he answered. +"The fool who complains that his life is empty is blind and deaf +and--damnably thick--er--pardon me, I--er nearly got excited." + +"Excited?" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "I'd pay good money t' see you like +that!" + +"You see, I had an idea--a rather original idea!" + +"Then take care of it, Mr. Geoffrey; nurse it careful, and we'll have ye +doin' bigger things than push a peanut barrer--peanuts!" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I've got a stranglehold on that idea, for it is rather +brilliant." + +"There's that kettle b'ilin' at last, thank goodness!" sighed Mrs. +Trapes, crossing to the stove, "tea's a luxury, I suppose, but--oh, drat +Mulligan, anyway!" + +So Mrs. Trapes brewed the tea, while Ravenslee gazed at Hermione again, +at her shapely arms, her dimpled elbows, her preoccupied face--a face so +serenely, so utterly unaware of his regard, of course, until he chanced +to look away, and then--Hermione stole a glance at him. + +"There, my dear," said Mrs. Trapes after a while, "there's a cup o' tea +as _is_ a cup o' tea, brewed jest on the b'ile, in a hot pot, and drawed +to perfection! Set right down an' drink it, slow an' deliberate. Tea +ain't meant to be swallowed down careless, like a man does his beer! An' +why?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, as they sipped the fragrant beverage, all +three, "why ain't you out with your precious--peanuts, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +Ravenslee set down his cup and turned to Hermione. + +"Mrs. Trapes has told you, I think, that I am become--er--an itinerant +vendor of the ubiquitous peanut--" + +"Mr. Geoffrey!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, gulping a mouthful of hot tea and +blinking, "I never did! Never in all my days would I allow myself such +expressions--Mr. Geoffrey, I'm ashamed at you! An' that reminds me--it +was chicken fricassee, wasn't it? For your supper, I mean?" + +"I believe it was." + +"Then," said Mrs. Trapes, rising, "I'll go an' buy it. Was you wantin' +anything fetched, Hermy?" + +"If you wouldn't mind bringing a bunch of asparagus--" + +"Sparrergrass!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes in horror-struck tones, "why, it's +anywhere from thirty to sixty cents--" + +"But Arthur loves it, dear, and now that he's working so hard--" + +"Arthur likes!" cried Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Mr. Geoffrey, it's been +Arthur ever since he was born, an' her scrinchin' an' pinchin' herself +for the sake o' that b'y. O' course he likes sparrergrass--so do I--but +I make shift with pertatoes or cabbidge or carrots--an' so should he. +Come now, Hermy, you take a bunch o' carrots instead; carrots is healthy +an' cheap! Come now, is that sparrergrass to be carrots or not?" + +"Ann, that asparagus is to be--asparagus!" + +"Such wicked extravagance, an' all for that b'y. Hermy, I'm surprised at +ye!" + +For a long moment after Mrs. Trapes had departed there was silence, +while Ravenslee sat gazing where Hermione stood busy at her pastry +again. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," said she at last, "I want to thank you for watching over +my boy. Arthur told me how good you were to him while I was away. I want +you to know how grateful I am--" + +"What beautiful hands you have, Hermione--and I shall dream of your +arms." + +"My arms?" she repeated, staring. + +"They're so--smooth and white--" + +"Oh, that's flour!" said she, bending over the table. + +"And so--round--" + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey! Can't you find something else to talk about?" + +"Why, of course," he answered, "there are your feet, so slender and +shapely--" + +"In these frightful old shoes!" she added. + +"Worn out mostly in other peoples' service," he nodded. "God bless +them!" + +"They let the wet in horribly when it rains!" she sighed. + +"So heaven send us dry weather! Then there is your wonderful hair," he +continued, "so long and soft and--" + +"And all bunched up anyhow!" said she, touching the heavy, shining +braids with tentative fingers. "Please don't say any more, Mr. Geoffrey, +because I just know I look a sight--I feel it! And in this old gown +too--it's the one I keep to scrub the floors in--" + +"Scrub the floors?" he repeated. + +"Why, of course, floors must be scrubbed, and I've had plenty--oh, +plenty of experience--now what are you thinking?" + +"That a great many women might envy you that gown for the beauty that +goes with it. You are very beautiful, you know, Hermione." + +"And beauty in a woman is--everything, isn't it?" she said a little +bitterly and with head suddenly averted. + +"Have I offended you?" + +"No," she answered without looking around, "only sometimes you are so +very--personal." + +"Because the First and Second Persons Singular Number are the most +interesting persons in the world, and--Hermione, in all this big world +there is only one person I want. Could you ever learn to love a peanut +man?" + +"That would all depend--on the peanut man," she answered softly, "and +you--you don't talk or act a little bit like a real peanut man." + +"Well, could you stoop to love this peanut man just as he is, with all +his faults and failures, love him enough to trust yourself to his +keeping, to follow him into the unknown, to help him find that Beautiful +City of Perhaps--could you, Hermione?" As he ended he rose to his feet, +but swiftly, dexterously, she eluded him. + +"Wait!" she pleaded, facing him across the table, "I--I want to talk to +you--to ask you some questions, and I want you to be serious, please." + +"Solemn as sixty judges!" he nodded. + +"Well, first, Mr. Geoffrey--why do you pretend to sell peanuts?" + +"Pretend!" he repeated, trying to sound aggrieved. + +"Oh, I'm not blind, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"No, indeed--I think your eyes are the most beau--" + +"Oh, please, please be serious!" + +"As a dozen owls!" + +"I--I know," she went on quickly, "I'm sure you haven't always had to +live in such--such places as Mulligan's. I know you don't belong here as +I do. Is it necessity has driven you to live here or only--curiosity?" + +"Well--er--perhaps a little of both," he admitted. + +"Then you're not obliged to sell peanuts for a living?" + +"'Obliged' is scarcely the word, perhaps; let us call it a peanut +penchant, a hobby, a--" + +"You are not quite so--poverty-stricken as you pretend?" Her voice was +very soft and gentle, but she kept her head averted, also her foot was +tapping nervously in its worn shoe. + +"Oh, as to money," he answered, "I have enough for my simple needs, but +in every other sense I am a miserable pauper. You see, there are some +things no money can buy, and they are generally the best things of +life." + +"And so," said she, interrupting him gently, "you come here to +Mulligan's, you deceive every one into thinking you are very poor, you +make a pretence of selling peanuts and push a barrow through the +streets--why?" + +"First, because pushing a barrow is--er--very healthy exercise." + +"Yes, Mr. Geoffrey?" she said in the same soft voice. + +"And second," he continued, wishing he could see her face, "second, +because I find it--er, well--highly amusing." + +"Amusing!" she cried, turning suddenly, her eyes very bright and her +cheeks hot and anger-flushed. "Amusing!" she repeated, "ah, yes--that's +just it--it's all only a joke to you, to be done with when it grows +tiresome. But my life here--our life is very real--ah, terribly real, +and has been--sordid sometimes. What is only sport to you for a little +while is deadly earnest to me; you are only playing at poverty, but I +must live it--" + +"And thirdly," he continued gently, "because I love you, Hermione!" + +"Love me!" she repeated, shaking her head. "Ah, no, no--your world is +not my world nor ever could be." + +"Why, then, your world shall be mine." + +"Yes, but for how long?" she demanded feverishly. "I wonder how long you +could endure this world of mine? I have had to work and slave all my +life, but you--look at your hands, so white and well-cared for--yours +are not the hands of a worker!" + +"No, I'm afraid they're not!" he admitted a little ruefully. + +"Now look at mine--see my fingers all roughened by my needle." + +"Such busy, capable hands!" said he, drawing a pace nearer, "hands +always working for others, so strong to help the distressed. I love and +honour them more just because of those work-roughened fingers." As he +spoke he reached out very suddenly, and clasping those slender hands, +stooped and kissed them reverently. Now, glancing up, he beheld her red +lips quivering while her eyes were suffused all at once, as, drooping +her head, she strove to loose his hold. + +"Let me go!" she whispered, "I--I--ah, let me go!" + +"Hermione," he breathed, "oh, Hermione, how beautiful you are!" But at +this she cried out almost as if he had struck her and, wrenching her +hands free, covered her face. + +"Oh, God!--are all men the same?" + +"Hermione," he stammered, "Hermione--what do you mean?" + +"I mean," she answered, proud head up-flung, "there were always plenty +of men to tell me that--when I was an office scrubwoman. Well?" she +demanded fiercely, stung by something in his look, "what did you think +I'd been? When a girl is left alone with a baby brother to care for, +she can't wait and pick and choose work that is nice and ladylike; she +must take what comes along or starve--so I worked. I used to scrub +floors and stairs in an office building. I was very young then, and +Arthur hardly more than a baby, and it was either that or starvation +or--" she flushed painfully, but her blue eyes met his regard +unflinchingly; "anyway, I--preferred to be a scrubwoman. So now you know +what I mean by your world not being my world, and I--I guess you see +how--how impossible it all is." + +For a long moment was a silence wherein she stood turned from him, her +trembling fingers busily folding and refolding a pleat in her apron +while he stared down blindly at the floor. + +"So you preferred the slavery of scrubbing floors, did you, Hermione?" +he said at last. + +"Of course!" she answered, without turning or lifting her heavy head. + +"And that," said he, his voice as placid, as serenely unhurried as +usual, "and that is; just why all things are going to be possible to +us--yes, even turning my wasted years to profit. Oh, my Hermione, help +me to be worthy of you--teach me what a glorious thing life may be--" + +"I?" she said wonderingly, her drooping head still averted, "but I am--" + +"Just the one woman I want to be my own for ever and always, more--far +more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." + +"But," she whispered, "I am only--" + +"The best, the noblest I have ever known." + +"But a--scrubwoman!" + +"With dimples in her elbows, Hermione!" In one stride he was beside her, +and she, because of his light tone, must turn at last to glance up at +him half-fearfully; but those grey eyes were grave and reverent, the +hands stretched out to her were strangely unsteady, and when he spoke +again, his voice was placid no longer. + +"Dear," he said, leaning toward her, "from the very first I've been +dying to have you in my arms, but now I--I dare not touch you unless +you--will it so. Ah, don't--don't turn from me; let me have my +answer--look up, Hermione!" + +Slowly she obeyed, and beholding the shy languor of her eyes, the sweet +hurry of her breathing, and all the sighing, trembling loveliness of +her, he set his arms about her, drawing her close; and she, yielding to +those compelling arms, gave herself to the passion of his embrace. And +so he kissed her, her warm, soft-quivering mouth, her eyes, her silken +hair, until she sighed and struggled in his clasp. + +"My hair," she whispered, "see--it's all coming down!" + +"Well, let it--I'd love to see it so, Hermione." + +"Should you? Why then--let me go," she pleaded. + +Reluctantly he loosed her, and standing well beyond his reach, she shook +her shapely head, and down, down fell the heavy coils, past shoulder and +waist and hip, rippling in shining splendour to her knees. Then, while +he gazed spellbound by her loveliness she laughed a little unsteadily, +and flushing beneath his look, turned and fled from him to the door; +when he would have followed she stayed him. + +"Please," she said, tender-voiced, "I want to be alone--it is all so +wonderful, I want to be alone and--think." + +"I may see you again to-night, Hermione? Dear--I must." + +"Why, if you must," she said, "how can I--prevent you?" + +Then, all at once, her cool, soft arms were about his neck, had drawn +him down to meet her kiss, and--he was alone with the pastry board, the +rolling-pin and the flour-dredger--but he saw them all through a golden +glory, and when he somehow found himself out upon the dingy landing, the +glory was all about him still. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE MADE A DEAL IN REAL ESTATE + + +The morning sun blazed down, and Tenth Avenue was full of noise and dust +and heat; children screamed and played and fought together, carts +rumbled past, distant street cars clanged their bells, the sidewalks +were full of the stir and bustle of Saturday; but Ravenslee went his way +heedless of all this, even of the heat, for before his eyes was the +vision of a maid's shy loveliness, and he thrilled anew at the memory of +two warm lips. Thus he strode unheeding through the jostling throng at a +speed very different from his ordinary lounging gait. Very soon he came +to a small drug-store, weather-beaten and grimy of exterior but very +bright within, where everything seemed in a perpetual state of glitter, +from the multitudinous array of bottles and glassware upon the shelves +to the taps and knobs of the soda fountain. Yet nowhere was there +anything quite so bright as the shrewd, twinkling eyes of the little +grey-haired man who greeted Ravenslee with a cheery nod. + +"Hot enough?" he enquired. + +"Quite!" answered Ravenslee. + +"Goin' to be hotter." + +"Afraid so." + +"Rough on th' kiddies, an' ice goin' up. Which reminds me I sent on the +mixture you ordered for little Hazel Bowker." + +"Good," nodded Ravenslee. + +"And the pills to Mrs. Sims." + +"Good again." + +"An' the sleeping-draught for old Martin Finlay." + +"Good once more." + +"Won't last long, old Martin, I guess. Never been the same since little +Maggie drowned herself, poor child. What d'ye want this morning?" + +"First to pay for the medicine," said Ravenslee, laying a five-dollar +bill on the counter, "and then the use of your 'phone." + +"Right there," said the chemist, nodding toward a certain shady corner, +where, remote from all intruding bustle, was a telephone booth into +which Ravenslee stepped forthwith and where ensued the following +one-sided conversation: + +Ravenslee. "Hello!" + +Telephone. "Buzz!" + +Ravenslee. "Hello, Central, give me Thirty-three Wall, please." + +Telephone. "Ting-a-ling--buzz!" + +Ravenslee. "Damn this 'phone--what? No, I said Double-three +Wall." + +Telephone. "Buzz! Ting! Zut!" + +Ravenslee. "Sounded different, did it? Well, I want--" + +Telephone. "Buzz! Zut! Ting!" + +Ravenslee. "Thanks. Hello, that Thirty-three Wall? Dana and +Anderson's Office? Good! I want to speak with Mr. Anderson--say Mr. +Ravenslee." + +Telephone. "Zing!" + +Ravenslee. "Thanks. That you, Anderson?" + +Telephone. "Pang!" + +Ravenslee. "Thanks--very well! What the devil's wrong with this +instrument of torment--can you hear me?" + +Telephone. "Crack!" + +Ravenslee. "Good! Yes--that's better! Now listen; I want you to +do some business for me. No, I'm buying, not selling. I'm going into +real estate. What, a bad speculation? Well, anyway, I'm buying tenement +property in Tenth Avenue, known as Mulligan's, I believe. Oh, you've +heard of it, eh? Not in the market? Not for sale? Well, I'll buy it. Oh, +yes, you can--what d' you suppose is his figure? So much? Phew! Oh, +well, double it. No, I'm not mad, Anderson. No, nor drunk--I just happen +to want Mulligan's--and I'll have it. When can you put the deal through? +Oh, nonsense, make him sell at once--get him on the 'phone. Oh, yes, he +will, if you offer enough--Mulligan would sell his mother--at his own +price. You quite understand--at once, mind! All right, good-by. No, I'm +not mad--nor drunk, man; I haven't tasted a cocktail for a month. Eh--go +and get one? I will!" + +So saying, Ravenslee hung up the receiver and hastened out of the +stifling heat of the suffocating booth, mopping perspiring brow. + +"You look kinder warm!" ventured the chemist. + +"I feel it." + +"And it's going to be warmer. Try an ice-cream soda--healthy and +invigorating." + +"And better than any cocktail on such a day!" + +"I guess! Take one?" + +"Thank you, yes." + +So the bright-eyed chemist mixed the beverage and handed it over the +counter. + +"Chin-chin!" he nodded. + +"Twice," said Ravenslee, lifting the long glass. "To the Beautiful City +of Perhaps!" and he drank deep. + +"Say," said the chemist, staring, "that sounds t' me like a touch of the +sun. Try a bottle of my summer mixture, good for sunstroke, heat-bumps, +colic, spasms, and Hell's Kitchen generally--try a bottle?" + +"Thanks," said Ravenslee, "I will." And grimly pocketing the bottled +panacea, he stepped out into the hot and noisy avenue. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HOW SPIKE HEARKENED TO POISONOUS SUGGESTION AND SOAPY BEGAN TO WONDER + + +Spike was on his way from the office, very conscious of his new straw +hat and immaculate collar; his erstwhile shabby suit had been cleaned +and pressed by Hermione's skilled and loving fingers, hence Spike turned +now and then as he passed some shop window to observe the general effect +with furtive eye; and stimulated by his unwontedly smart appearance, he +whistled joyously as he betook himself homeward. Moreover in his breast +pocket was his pay envelope, not very bulky to be sure, wherein lay his +first week's wages, and as often as he turned to glance at the tilt of +the straw hat or heed the set of his tie, his hand must needs steal to +this envelope to make sure of its safety. His fingers were so employed +when he chanced to espy a certain article exposed for sale in an +adjacent shop window; whereupon, envelope in hand, he incontinent +entered and addressed the plump Semitic merchant in his usual easy +manner. + +"Greetings, Abe! I'll take one o' them hair-combs." + +"Hair-gombs?" nodded the merchant. "Vot kind?" + +"What kind? Why, the best you got." + +"Ve got 'em up to veefty dollars--" + +"Come off it, Cain, come off--I ain't purchasin' a diamond aigrette +to-day, it's a lady's hair-comb I want--good, but not too +flossy-lookin'--savvy that? This'll do, I guess--how much? Right there!" +said Spike, flicking a bill upon the counter. "That's it, stick it in a +box--oh, never mind th' wrappin's. S'long, Daniel!" + +With his purchase in his pocket, Spike strode out of the shop, +whistling cheerily, but the merry notes ended very suddenly as he dodged +back again, yet not quite quick enough, for a rough voice hailed him, +hoarse and jovial. + +"Why, hello, Kid, how goes it?" M'Ginnis's heavy hand descended on his +shrinking shoulder and next moment he was out on the sidewalk where +Soapy lounged, a smouldering cigarette pendent from his thin, pallid +lips as usual. And Soapy's eyes, so bright between their narrowed, puffy +lids, so old-seeming in the youthful oval of his pale face, were like +his cigarette, in that they smouldered also. + +"Holy smoke!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, surveying Spike up and down in mock +amazement, "this ain't you, Kid--no, this sure ain't you. Looks all t' +th' company-promoter, don't he, Soapy?" + +"'S' right, Kid, 's' right!" nodded the pallid youth, his smouldering +eyes always turning toward M'Ginnis. + +"Say, now, Bud, quit your kiddin'!" said Spike petulantly. + +"But, Gee whiz!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, tightening his grasp, "you sure are +some class, Kid, in that stiff collar an' sporty tie. How's the stock +market? Are ye a bull or a bear?" + +"Ah, cut it out, Bud!" cried the lad, writhing. + +"Right-o, Kid, right-o!" said M'Ginnis, loosing his hold. "You're comin' +over t' O'Rourke's t'night, of course?" + +"Why, no, Bud--I can't." + +"Oh, t' hell wid that--I got you all fixed up to go ten rounds wid Young +Alf, th' East Side Wonder--" + +"What?" exclaimed Spike, his eyes bright and eager, "you got me a match +wi' Young Alf? Say, Bud--you ain't stringing me, are ye?" + +"Not much. I told you I'd get ye a real chance--" + +"Why," cried Spike, "if I was t' lick Young Alf, I'd be in line t' meet +th' top-notchers!" + +"Sure--if you lick him!" nodded M'Ginnis grimly. + +"Say," said Spike, his face radiant, "I've just been waitin' an' +waitin' for a chance like this--a chance t' show you an' th' bunch I can +handle myself, an' now"--he stopped all at once, and shaking his head +gloomily, turned away. "I forgot, I--I can't, Bud." + +"Aw, what's bitin' ye?" + +"I can't come t'night." + +"Won't come, ye mean!" + +"Can't, Bud." + +"Why not?" + +"I promised Hermy t' quit fightin'--" + +"Is that all? Hermy don't have t' know nothin' about it. This is a swell +chance for ye, Kid, the best you'll ever get, so just skin over t'night +an' don't say nothin' t' nobody." + +"I--can't, Bud--that's sure." + +"Goin' t' give me d' throw-down, are ye?" + +"I don't mean it that ways, Bud, but I can't break my promise t' Hermy--" + +"She'd never know." + +"She'd find out some ways; she always does, and I can't lie t' her." + +"So you won't come, hey? We ain't classy enough for ye these days, hey? +I guess goin' to an office every day is one thing an' crackin' a +millionaire's crib's another." + +"Cheese it, Bud, cheese it!" gasped Spike, pale and trembling. + +"Right-o, Kid!" nodded M'Ginnis, "but I've been wantin' t' know how ye +made your get-away that night." + +"Oh, quit--quit talkin' of it!" Spike panted. "I--I want t' forget all +about it. I been tryin' t' think it never happened." + +"Ah, but you know it did," said M'Ginnis, "an' I know it, an' Soapy +knows it did--don't yer, Soapy?" + +"'S' right!" nodded Soapy, his voice soft, his eyes hard and malevolent. + +"So we kinder want t' know," continued M'Ginnis, heedless always of +those baleful watching eyes, "we just want t' get on t' how you--" + +"Oh, say--give it a rest!" cried Spike desperately. "Give it a rest, +can't ye?" + +"Why, then, Kid, what about comin' over t' O'Rourke's t'night?" + +Spike wrung his hands. "If Hermy finds out, she'll--cry, I guess--" + +"Hermy!" growled M'Ginnis, black brows fierce and scowling, "a hell of +a lot you care for Hermy, I--don't think!" + +"Say now, you Bud, whatcher mean?" demanded Spike, quivering with sudden +anger. + +"Just this, Kid--what kind of a brother are ye t' go lettin' that noo +pal o' yours--that guy you call Geoff--go sneaking round her morning, +noon, an' night?" + +"You cut that out, Bud M'Ginnis. Geoff don't! Geoff ain't that kind." + +"He don't, eh? Well, what about all this talk that's goin' on--about him +an' her, an' her an' him--eh?" + +"What talk?" demanded Spike, suddenly troubled. + +"Why, every one's beginnin' t' notice as they're always meetin' on th' +stairs--an' him goin' into her flat, an' them talkin' an' laughin' +together when you're out o' th' way--ah," growled M'Ginnis, between +grinding white teeth, "an' likely as not kissin' an' squeezin' in +corners--" + +"That's enough--that's enough!" cried the boy, fronting M'Ginnis, +fierce-eyed. "Nobody ain't goin' t' speak about Hermy that way." + +"Y' can't help it, Kid. Here's this guy Geoff, this pal o' yours--been +with her--in her flat with her, all th' mornin'--ain't he, Soapy?" + +"'S' right, Kid!" nodded that pallid individual, the smouldering +cigarette a-swing between pale lips; and, though he addressed Spike, his +furtive eyes, watching aslant between narrowed lids, glittered to behold +M'Ginnis's scowling brow; also the wolverine mouth curled faintly, so +that the pendulous cigarette stirred and quivered. + +"Oh, I'm handin' ye the straight goods, Kid," M'Ginnis went on. "I'm +puttin' ye wise because you're my pal, an' because I've known Hermy an' +been kind o' soft about her since we was kids." + +"Well, then, you know she--she ain't that sort," said Spike, his voice +quavering oddly. "So--don't you--say no more--see?" + +"All right, Kid, all right--only I don't like t' see this pal o' yours +gettin' in his dirty work behind your back. If anything happens--don't +blame me--" + +"What--what you tryin' t' tell me--you Bud?" questioned Spike, between +quivering lips. + +"I'm tellin' ye things are gettin' too warm--oh, Hermy ain't the icicle +she tries t' make out she is." + +"An' I'm tellin' you--you're a liar, Bud M'Ginnis--a dirty liar!" cried +the boy. + +M'Ginnis's bull neck swelled; between his thick, black brows a vein +swelled and pulsed. Viewing this, Soapy's glittering eyes blinked, and +the pendulous cigarette quivered faintly again. + +"Now by--" began M'Ginnis, lifting menacing fist; then his arm sank, and +he shook his big, handsome head. "Oh, pshaw!" he exclaimed, "I guess +you're all worked up, Kid, so I ain't takin' no notice. But savvy this, +Kid, if Hermy ain't goin' t' marry me on th' level, she ain't goin' t' +let this guy have her--the other way--not much! I guess you ain't +forgotten little Maggie Finlay? Well, watch out your pal Geoff don't +make Hermy go th' same." + +Uttering a wild, inarticulate cry, the lad sprang--to be caught in +M'Ginnis's powerful grasp, but, even so, his fist grazed M'Ginnis's +full-lipped mouth. For a moment Spike strove desperately to reach Bud's +grim-smiling face until, finding his efforts vain, he ceased all at +once, bowed his head upon his arms, and burst into a passion of bitter +sobbing; then, with an agile twist, he wrenched himself free, and +turning, sped away, heedless of his jaunty straw hat that had fallen and +lay upon the dusty sidewalk. Languidly Soapy stooped and picked it up. + +"His noo lid!" said he. "Only bought t'day, I reckon!" + +"Gee!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, staring after Spike's fleeing figure, already +far away, "he sure was some peevish!" + +"Some!" nodded Soapy. "If he'd happened t' have a gun handy, here's +where you'd have cashed in for good, I reckon. Yes, Bud, you'd be deader +'n' mutton!" sighed Soapy, turning Spike's hat around upon his finger. +"You'd be as dead as--little Maggie Finlay you was mentionin'!" + +M'Ginnis wheeled so suddenly upon the speaker that he took a long +step backward, but he still spun Spike's hat upon his finger, and the +pendulous cigarette quivered quite noticeably. "Aw, quit it, Bud, quit +it!" he sighed. "You know I ain't th' kind o' guy it's healthy to punch +around promiscuous." + +"You mean if he'd missed, there was you, eh?" + +"Well, I dunno, Bud, if it had been my sister--maybe--" + +"Oh, I know the sort o' dirty tyke you are, Soapy--but I'm awake--an' +I've got you, see? If anything was t' happen t' me, I've left +papers--proofs--'n' it 'ud be the chair for yours--savvy?" + +"Anyway, Bud, I--I haven't got a sister," said Soapy, juggling deftly +with the hat. "But there's one thing, Bud, th' guy who gets actin' Mr. +Freshy with Hermy is sure goin' to ante-up in kingdom come, if th' Kid's +around." + +"You're a dirty dog, Soapy, but you've got brains in your ugly dome, +I guess you're right about th' Kid, an' that gives me an almighty good +idea!" And M'Ginnis walked on awhile, deep in thought; and ever as he +went, so between those pale and puffy lids two malevolent eyes watched +and watched him. + +"No," sighed Soapy at last, sliding a long, pale hand into the pocket of +his smartly-tailored coat, "no, I ain't got a sister, Bud, but there was +little Maggie Finlay. I kind o' used t' think she was all t' th' harps +an' haloes. I used t' kind o' hope--but pshaw! she's dead--ain't she, +Bud?" + +"I guess so!" nodded M'Ginnis, yet deep in thought. + +"An' buried--ain't she, Bud?" + +"What th' hell!" exclaimed Bud, turning to stare, "what's bitin' ye?" + +"I'm wonderin' 'why', an' I'm likewise wonderin' 'who', Bud. Maybe I'll +find out for sure some day. I'm--waitin', Bud, waitin'. Goin' around t' +O'Rourke's, are ye? Oh, well, I guess I'll hike along wid ye, Bud." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +IN WHICH THE POISON BEGINS TO WORK + + +Spike sat glowering at the newspaper, yet very conscious, none the less, +that Hermione often turned to glance at him wistfully as she bustled to +and fro; at last she spoke. + +"Arthur, dear--why so gloomy?" + +"I ain't--I mean, I'm not." + +"You're not sulking about anything?" + +"No." + +"Then you're sick." + +"I'm all right." + +"But you didn't enjoy your dinner a little bit." + +"I--I wasn't hungry, I guess," said Spike, frowning down at the paper. +But Hermione was beside him, her cool fingers caressing his curls. + +"Boy, dear--what is it?" + +"Say, Hermy, where'd you get them roses?" and he nodded to the flowers +she had set among her shining hair. + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey brought them." + +"Been here, has he?" + +"Yes, he came in with Ann this morning--why?" + +"Did he--did he stay long?" + +"N-o, I don't think so--why?" + +"Comes round here pretty often, don't he?" + +"Why, you see, he's your friend, dear, and we are very near neighbours." + +"Oh, I know all that, but--folks are beginning to--talk." + +Hermione's smooth brows were wrinkled faintly and her caressing hand had +fallen away. + +"To talk!" she repeated, "you mean about--me?" + +"Yes!" nodded Spike, avoiding her eyes, "about you and--him!" + +"Well--let them!" she answered gently, "you and Ann are all I care +about, so let them talk." + +"But I--I don't like folks t' talk about my sister, an' it's got t' +stop. You got t' tell him so, or else I will. What's he got t' go buying +ye flowers for, anyway?" + +Hermione's black brows knit in a sudden frown. "Arthur, don't be silly!" + +"Oh, I know you think I'm only a kid--but I ain't--I'm not. If you can't +take care of--of yourself, I must and--" + +"Arthur--stop!" + +"Well, but what's he always crawlin' around here for?" + +"He doesn't crawl--he couldn't," she cried in sudden anger; then in +gentler tones, "I don't think you'd better say any more, or maybe I +shall grow angry. If you have grown to think so--so badly of him, +remember I'm your sister." + +"But you're a girl, an' he's a man an'--" + +"Stop it!" Hermione stamped her foot, and meeting her flashing glance, +Spike wilted and--stopped it. So, while he glowered at the paper again, +Hermione put away the dinner things, making more clatter about it than +was usual, and turning now and then to glance at him from under her long +lashes. + +"Where did you meet M'Ginnis as you came home, Arthur?" + +"At the corner of--say, who told you I met him?" + +"You did." + +"I never said a word about meetin' him." + +"No, but you've been telling me what he told you. Only M'Ginnis could be +vile enough to dare say such things about me. Oh, Arthur, for shame--how +can you listen to that brute beast--for shame!" + +Now, meeting the virginal purity of those eyes, Spike felt his cheeks +burn, and he wriggled in his chair. + +"Bud only told me Geoff had been--been here," he stammered, "and I +guess it was the truth--I--I mean--" + +"Oh, boy, for shame!" and turning about, she swept from the room, her +head carried very high, leaving him crouched in his chair, his nervous +fingers twisting and turning a small box in his pocket--the box that +held the forgotten hair-comb. He was still sitting miserably thus when +he heard a knock on the outer door and a moment later a woman's voice, +querulous and high-pitched. + +"Oh, Miss Hermy, my Martin's very bad t'night, an' I got t' go out, an' +I can't leave him alone; would ye mind comin' down an' sittin' with him +for a bit?" + +"Why, of course I will." + +"Y' see, since he had th' stroke, he's sorrered for our little +Maggie--he was hard on her, y' see, an' since she--she died--he's been +grievin' for her. Had himself laid in her little room--seemed to comfort +him somehow. But to-day, when he heard we had to leave because th' rent +was rose, it nigh broke his poor heart. An' I got to go out, an' I can't +leave him alone, so--if y' wouldn't mind, Miss Hermy--" + +"Just a moment--I'll come right now." As she spoke, Hermione reentered +the kitchen, untying her apron as she came. Spike sat watching, waiting, +yearning for a word, but without even a glance Hermione turned and left +him. When he was alone, he started to his feet and tearing the box from +his pocket dashed it fiercely to the floor; then as suddenly picked it +up, and approaching the open window, drew back his hand to hurl it out +and so stood, staring into the face that had risen to view beyond the +window ledge, a round face with two very round eyes, a round button of +a nose, and a wide mouth just now up-curving in a grin. + +"Hey, you, Larry, what you hangin' around here for?" demanded Spike, +slipping the box into his pocket again. "What you doin' on our fire +escape, hey?" + +"Brought back yer roof!" replied the lad. + +"Well, where is it?" + +"Here it is." And climbing astride the window sill, Larry handed in the +jaunty straw. + +"Where'd you find it?" + +"Bud give it me, 'n' say--" + +"All right," nodded Spike, dusting the straw tenderly with a +handkerchief. "Now git, I wanter be alone." + +"But, say, Kid, Bud says I was ter say as he's sorry for what he said, +'n' say, he says you'd better be gettin' over t' O'Rourke's, 'n' say--" + +"I ain't comin'!" + +"But say, you're t' fight Young Alf, 'n' say--" + +"I ain't comin'!" + +"But say, dere's a lot of our money on ye--I got two plunks meself, 'n' +say, you just gotter fight anyway. Bud says so--" + +"I can't help what Bud says; I ain't comin'." + +"Not comin'!" exclaimed Larry, his eyes rounder than ever. + +"No!" + +Larry's wide mouth curved in a slow grin, and he nodded his +close-cropped head; said he: + +"Say, Kiddo, you know Young Alf's a punishin' fighter, I guess; you know +as nobody's never stopped him yet, don't yer; you know as you're givin' +him six pounds--say, you ain't--scared, are ye?" + +"Scared?" repeated Spike, frowning. "Do I look like I was scared? You +know there ain't any guy I'm scared of--but I promised Hermy--" + +"Pip-pip!" grinned Larry. "Say, if you don't turn up t'night, d'ye know +what d' bunch'll say? Dey'll say you're a--quitter!" + +"Well, don't you say it, that's all!" said Spike, laying aside his hat +and clenching his fists. + +"Not me!" grinned Larry. "There'll be plenty to do that, I guess--dey'd +call it after ye in d' streets--dey'll give ye th' ha! ha! Dey'll say +Hermy Chesterton's brother's a quitter--a quitter!" + +For a long moment Spike stood with bent head and hands tightly +clenched, then crossing to the sideboard, he picked up his shabby cap. + +"Who's in my corner?" + +"Now you're talkin', Kiddo; I know as you--" + +"Who's in my corner?" + +"Bud an' Lefty, 'n' say, I guess they can handle you all right, eh? 'N' +say, come on, let's cop a sneak before any one butts in--d' fire escape +for ours, eh?" + +"Sure!" said Spike, climbing through the window. "Oh, there ain't nobody +goin' t' call Hermy Chesterton's brother a quitter." + +"You bet there ain't!" grinned Larry, "come on, Kid!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +OF AN EXPEDITION BY NIGHT + + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, what you settin' here in the dark for?" + +"Is it dark, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"My land! Can't you see as it's too dark t' see, and--oh, shucks, Mr. +Geoffrey!" + +"Certainly, Mrs. Trapes! But can't you see that the whole world--my +world, anyway--is full of a refulgent glory, a magic light where nothing +mean or sordid can possibly be, a light that my eyes never saw till now +nor hoped to see, a radiance that may never fail, I hope--a--er--" + +"Oh, go on, Mr. Geoffrey, go on. Only I guess I'll light the gas jest +the same, if you don't mind!" Which Mrs. Trapes did forthwith. "But what +was you a-doin' of all alone in the dark?" + +"Glorying in life, Mrs. Trapes, and praising the good God for health and +strength to enjoy it and the fulness thereof--" + +"'Fulness thereof' meanin' jest what, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"The most beautiful thing in a beautiful world, Mrs. Trapes." + +"An' that's Hermy, I s'pose. An' all that talk o' glory an' radiance an' +magic light means as you've been an' spoke, I guess?" + +"It does." + +"An' what did she say?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothin'?" + +"Not with her lips, but--" + +"Oh--her eyes, was it? Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell you what--a girl may +look 'yes' with her eyes a whole week an' say 'no' with her mouth jest +once and mean 'no'--when it's to a peanut man--Lordy Lord! what's that?" +And Mrs. Trapes jumped as a hand rapped softly on the door, and stared +horrified to see a human head protrude itself into the room while a +voice said: + +"Da Signorina she out, so me come tell-a you piece-a-da-noos--" + +"Why, if it ain't that blessed guinney! Go away--what d'ye want?" + +Hereupon Tony flashed his white teeth, and opening the door, bowed with +his inimitable grace, grew solemn, tapped his nose, winked knowingly, +and laid finger to lip. + +"My land!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring. "What's the matter with the +Eyetalian iji't now?" + +"Spike--he go make-a-da-fight!" whispered Tony hoarsely. + +"Eh--Arthur fightin'--where?" + +"He go make-a-da-box--he drink-a-da-booze, den he walk-a--so! Den da +Signorina she-a-cry--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "you mean as that b'y's off boxin' again?" + +"Si, si--he go make-a-da-box-fight." + +"Is he over at O'Rourke's, Tony?" enquired Ravenslee, sitting upright. + +"I bet-a-my-life, yes--" + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clasping bony hands. "If they +bring him home drunk like they did last time!" + +"They shan't do that, Mrs. Trapes. Don't worry, I'll go and fetch him," +said Ravenslee, getting to his feet. + +"Fetch him? From O'Rourke's? Are ye crazy? You'd get half-killed like as +not. Oh, they're a bad, ugly lot down there!" + +"I feel rather ugly myself," said Ravenslee, looking around for the +shabby hat; "anyway, I'm going to see." + +"Why, then, if you're goin' t' venture among that lot, you take this +with ye, Mr. Geoffrey," and she thrust the poker into his hand. "You'll +sure need it--ah, do now!" But Ravenslee laughed and set it aside. +"You'd better take it, Mr. Geoffrey; fists is fists, but gimme a +poker--every time! A poker ain't t' be sneezed at! What, goin'--an' +empty-'anded? Mr. Geoffrey, I'm surprised at you. Think of Hermy!" + +"That's just what I am doing." + +"Well, s'posin' they hurt you! What'll Hermy do?" + +"You think she'd mind, then, though I'm--only a peanut man?" + +"Even a peanut man's a feller creatur, ain't he--an' Hermy's 'eart is +very tender an'--oh, shucks, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess you know she'd jest +be crazy if you was hurt bad!" + +"Why, then," said Ravenslee, smiling and taking up the battered hat, +"I'll take great care of myself--trust me!" + +"Then good-by, Mr. Geoffrey, good-by and--the good Lord go with you." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee and followed Tony out upon the +stair. Upon one of the many landings the young Italian paused. + +"Me put-a-you wise, Geoff; you savvy where-a to find Spike, now me go +back t' my lil Pietro, yes. S' long, pal, 'n' good-a luck!" + +Ravenslee hastened on down-stairs, returning neighbourly nods and +greetings as he went, but staying for none, and so, crossing the court, +turned into the avenue. On the corner he beheld the Spider, hard at work +on his eternal chewing gum, cap drawn low and hands in pockets. Seeing +Ravenslee, he nodded and lurched forward. + +"What's doin', Geoff?" he enquired. + +"I'm off to O'Rourke's--coming?" + +"Not much! An' say, 't ain't worth your trouble--I ain't fightin'. +Nawthin' but a lot o' fifth-raters." + +"I'm going over to fetch Spike." + +"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, his square jaws immobile from sheer +astonishment. "Say, you ain't crazy, are ye--I mean you ain't dippy or +cracked in the dome, are ye? Because d' Kid's goin' ten rounds with +Young Alf, d' East Side Wonder, t'night, see?" + +"Not if I can help it, Spider." + +"Aw--come off, bo! D'ye think Bud'll let him go?" + +"I shan't ask Bud--or any one else." + +"Meanin' as you'll walk right in on Bud's tough bunch an' cop out d' Kid +on y'r lonesome--eh?" + +"I shall try." + +"Then you sure are crazy; if y'r dome ain't cracked yet, it's sure goin' +t' be. Why, Bud 'n' his crowd'll soak you good 'n' plenty 'n' chuck ye +out again quicker'n ye went in. They will sure, bo--if you go--" + +"I'm wondering if you'll come along and help?" said Ravenslee lazily. + +"Me? Not so's you could notice it. I ain't huntin' that sort o' trouble." + +"Oh, well, if you think you'd--er--better not, I'll go alone." + +"What, yer goin', are ye?" + +"Of course! You see, Spike is my friend; consequently his trouble +is my trouble. Good night, Spider, and whatever else you do, be sure +to--er--take good care of yourself!" And Ravenslee smiled and turned +away; but he had not gone six paces before the Spider was at his elbow. + +"Say, bo," said he, "I don't like the way you smile, but you talk so +soft an' pretty, I guess I'll jest have t' come along t' gather up what +they leave of ye." + +"Spider," said Ravenslee, "shake!" The Spider obeyed, somewhat +shamefacedly to be sure. + +"It looks like two domes bein' cracked 'stead o' one, an' all along o' +that fool-kid!" Having said which, he lurched on beside Ravenslee, +chewing voraciously. + +"How you goin' t' work it?" he enquired suddenly. + +"I don't know yet." + +"Hully Chee! You've sure gotcher nerve along. There's some o' the +toughest guys in little Manhattan Village at O'Rourke's dump t'night, +keepin' th' ring an' fair achin' for trouble." + +"We must dodge 'em, Spider." + +"S'pose we can't?" + +"Then we must trust our luck, and I've got a hunch we shall get Spike +away somehow before Mr. Flowers dopes him or makes him drunk; anyway +we'll try. The dressing rooms are behind the annex, aren't they?" + +"Know the place, do ye?" + +"I've looked it over. We can get in behind the annex, can't we?" + +"In?" repeated the Spider, smiling grimly. "Oh, we'll get in all right; +what gets my goat is how we're goin' t' get out again. You sure are a +bird for takin' chances, Geoff." + +"Life is made up of chances, Spider, and there are two kinds of +men--those who take them joyfully and those who don't." + +"Well, say, you can scratch me on the joyful business. I'm th' guy as +only takes chances he's paid t' take." + +"How much are you getting on this job, Spider?" + +"Oh--well--I mean--say, what's th' time, bo?" + +"Five minutes after eight--why?" + +"I guess d' Kid's in th' ring, then. There's a full card t'night, an' +he's scheduled for eight sharp, so I reckon he's fightin' now--an' good +luck to him!" By this time they had reached that dark and quiet +neighbourhood where stood O'Rourke's saloon. But to-night the big annex +glared with light, and the air about it was full of a dull, hoarse, +insistent clamour that swelled all at once to a chorus of discordant +shrieks and frenzied cries. + +"Ah!" quoth the Spider sagely, "hark to 'em howl! That means some guy's +gettin' his, alright. Listen to 'em; they love t' get blood for their +entrance money, an' they're sure gettin' it. Some one's bein' knocked +out--come on!" + +It was a dark night, for there was no moon and the stars were hidden; +thus, as Ravenslee followed the Spider, he found himself stumbling over +the uneven ground of a vacant lot, a lonely place beyond which lay the +distant river. At last they reached various outbuildings, looming up +ugly and ungainly in the dimness. + +"Say, bo," said the Spider, stopping suddenly at a small and narrow +door, "you'd best wait here and lemme go first." + +"No, we'll go together." + +"Right-o, only be ready to make a quick get-away!" + +So saying, the Spider opened the door and, closely followed by +Ravenslee, stepped into a dimly-lit passage thick with the blue vapour +of cigars and cigarettes. It was a long, narrow corridor, bare and +uncarpeted, seeming to run the length of the building; on one hand was +a row of dingy windows and on the other were several doors, from behind +which came the sound of many voices that talked and sang and swore +together, a very babel. + +At the end of this passage was yet another door which gave upon a small +room that contained a rickety sofa, a chair, and a battered desk; a +kerosene lamp suspended against the wall burned dimly, and it was into +this chamber that the Spider ushered Ravenslee somewhat hastily; the +Spider's eyes were very bright, and he chewed rather more fiercely than +usual. + +"Bo," said he, "this place ain't exactly a bed o' roses for a strange +guy like you. Y' see, this is Bud's own stampin'-ground, an' the whole +bunch is here t'night, and most of 'em are heeled. Soapy an' Bud always +tote guns, I know. So I guess you'd better mark time here a bit while I +chase around an' locate th' Kid. If any one asks what you're doin' +around here, say as you come in with me. But, bo"--and here the Spider +laid an impressive hand on Ravenslee's arm--"if you should happen t' see +Bud, well, don't stop to look twice but beat it--let it be th' door or +winder for yours--only--beat it!" + +"Oh, why?" + +"Well, I know Bud's got it in fer you; I heard him say--oh, well, if +his gun should go off--accidental-like, this place ain't exactly +Broadway or Fifth Av'noo, bo--see?" + +"I see!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"Hold on!" said Spider, and crossing to the window, he unlatched it +stealthily and lifted it high, "if I ain't back inside of ten minutes, +bo, nip out through here and hike; wait for me at the lamp-post across +the lot over there--it'll be safer. D'ye get me?" + +"I do!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"I guess you'd be less of a fool if you was to get out now an' +wait--outside!" Spider suggested. + +Ravenslee shook his head. + +"I'll wait here," said he, "there are times when I can be as big a fool +as the next, Spider, and this is one of them." + +"That's so!" nodded the Spider, and chewing viciously, he turned and was +gone, to be hailed a few minutes later in uproarious greeting by many +discordant voices which died slowly to a droning hum above which came +sounds more distant, shouts and cheers from the auditorium. + +Left alone, Ravenslee looked about him, and then espied a newspaper that +lay upon the desk. Idly taking it up, his gaze was attracted by these +words, printed in large black letters: + +NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL RUN TO EARTH JACOB HEINE THE GUN-MAN ARRESTED IN +JERSEY CITY + +Below in small type he read this: + +Jacob Heine, believed to be the perpetrator of several mysterious +shooting affrays, and member of a dangerous West Side gang, was +arrested to-day. + +The light being dim, Ravenslee drew closer to the lamp, and standing +thus against the light, his face was in shadow--also his long figure +was silhouetted upon the opposite wall, plain to be seen by any one +opening the door. Suddenly, as he stood with head bent above the paper, +this door opened suddenly, and M'Ginnis entered; he also held a paper, +and now he spoke without troubling to lift his scowling gaze from the +printed column he was scanning: + +"That you, Lefty? Here's a hell of a mix-up--that dog-gone fool Heine's +got himself pinched--and in Jersey City too! I told him t' stay around +here till things was quiet! It's goin' t' be a hell of a job t' fix +things for him over there--'t ain't like N' York. But we got t' fix +things for him or chance him squealing on th' rest of us, but what beats +me is--" + +M'Ginnis's teeth clicked together, and the paper tore suddenly between +his hands as, glancing up at last, he beheld two keen, grey eyes that +watched him and a mouth, grim and close-lipped, that curled in the smile +Spider didn't like. + +For a long, tense moment they stood motionless, eye to eye, then, +reaching behind him, M'Ginnis locked the door, and drawing out the key, +thrust it into his pocket. + +"So--I got ye at last--have I?" said he slowly. + +"And I've got you," said Ravenslee pleasantly; "we seem to have got each +other, don't we?" + +"See here, you," said M'Ginnis, his massive shoulders squared, his big +chin viciously outthrust, "you're goin' t' leave Mulligan's, see?" + +"Am I?" said Ravenslee, lounging upon a corner of the battered desk. + +"You sure are," nodded M'Ginnis. "Hell's Kitchen ain't big enough for +you an' me, I guess; you're goin' because I say so, an' you're goin' +t'night!" + +"You surprise me!" said Ravenslee sleepily. + +"You're goin' t' quit Hell's Kitchen for good and--you ain't comin' +back!" + +"You amaze me!" and Ravenslee yawned behind his hand. + +"An' now you're goin' t' listen why an' wherefore--if you can keep +awake a minute!" + +"I'll try, Mr. Flowers, I'll try." + +M'Ginnis thrust clenched hands into his pockets and surveyed Ravenslee +with scornful eyes--his lounging figure and stooping shoulders, his +long, white hands and general listless air. + +"God!" he exclaimed, "that she should trouble t' look twice at such a +nancy-boy!" and he spat, loud and contemptuously. + +"Almost think you're trying to be rude, Mr. Flowers." + +"Aw--I couldn't be, to a--thing like you! An' see here--me name's +M'Ginnis!" + +"But then," sighed Ravenslee, "I prefer to call you Flowers--a fair name +for a foul thing--" + +M'Ginnis made a swift step forward and halted, hard-breathing and +menacing. + +"How much?" he demanded. + +"Fair name for a very foul thing, Mr. Flowers," repeated Ravenslee, +glancing up at him from under slumberous, drooping lids--"anyway, +Flowers you will remain!" + +As they stared again, eye to eye, M'Ginnis edged nearer and nearer, head +thrust forward, until Ravenslee could see the cords that writhed and +swelled in his big throat, and he hitched forward a languid shoulder. +"Don't come any nearer, Flowers," said he, "and don't stick out your jaw +like that--don't do it; I might be tempted to try to--er--hit it!" + +"What--you?" said M'Ginnis, and laughed hoarsely, while Ravenslee yawned +again. + +"An' now, Mr. Butt-in, if you're still awake--listen here. I guess it's +about time you stopped foolin' around Hermy Chesterton--an' you're goin' +t' quit--see!" Ravenslee's eyes flashed suddenly, then drooped as +M'Ginnis continued: "So you're goin' t' sit down right here, an' you're +goin' t' write a nice little note of farewell, an' you're goin' t' tell +her as you love her an' leave her because I say so--see? Ah!" he cried, +suddenly hoarse and anger-choked, "d' ye think I'll let Hermy look at a +thing like you--do ye?--do ye?" and he waited. Ravenslee sat utterly +still, and when at last he spoke his voice sounded even more gentle than +before. + +"My good Flowers, there is just one thing you shall not do, and that is, +speak her name in my hearing. You're not fit to, and, Mr. Flowers, I'll +not permit it." + +"Is that so?" snarled M'Ginnis, "well, then, listen some more. I know as +you're always hangin' around her flat, and if Hermy don't care about +losing her good name--" + +Even as Ravenslee's long arm shot out, M'Ginnis side-stepped the blow, +and Ravenslee found himself staring into the muzzle of a revolver. + +"Ah--I thought so!" he breathed, and shrank away. + +"Kind of alters things, don't it?" enquired M'Ginnis, hoarse and +jeering. "Well, if you don't want it to go off, sit down an' write Hermy +as pretty a little note as you can--no, shut that window first." + +Silent and speechless, Ravenslee crossed to the window and drew down the +sash, in doing which he noticed a dark something that crouched beneath +the sill. + +"An' now," said M'Ginnis, leaning against a corner of the desk, "sit +down here, nice an' close, an' write that letter--there's pen an' ink +an' paper--an' quick about it or by--" + +M'Ginnis sprang up and turned as the glass of the window splintered to +fragments, and, almost with the crash, Ravenslee leapt--a fierce twist, +a vicious wrench, and the deadly weapon had changed hands. + +"Lucky it didn't go off," said Ravenslee, smiling grimly at the revolver +he held, "others might have heard, and, Mr. Flowers, I want to be alone +with you just a little longer. Of course, I might shoot you for the +murderous beast you are, or I might walk you over to the nearest police +depot for the crook I think you are--but--oh, well, of late I've been +yearning to get my hands on you and so"--Ravenslee turned and pitched +the revolver through the broken window. But, almost as the weapon left +his hand, M'Ginnis was upon him, and, reeling from the blow, Ravenslee +staggered blindly across the room, till stayed by the wall, and sank +there, crouched and groaning, his face hidden in his hands. + +With a cry hoarse and fierce, M'Ginnis followed and stooped, eager to +make an end--stooped to be met by two fierce hands, sure hands and +strong, that grasped his silken neckerchief as this crouching figure +rose suddenly erect. So for a wild, panting moment they grappled, +swaying grimly to and fro, while ever the silken neckerchief was twisted +tight and tighter. Choking now, M'Ginnis felt fingers on his naked +throat, iron fingers that clutched cruelly, and in this painful grip was +whirled, choking, against the wall and thence borne down and down. And +now M'Ginnis, lying helpless across his opponent's knee, stared up into +a face pale but grimly joyous, lips that curled back from gnashing white +teeth--eyes that glared merciless. So Ravenslee bent M'Ginnis back +across his knee and choked him there awhile, then suddenly relaxed his +hold and let M'Ginnis sink, gasping, to the floor. + +"A little--rough, Mr. Flowers," he panted, "a trifle--rough with you--I +fear--but I want you--to know that you--shall not utter--her name--in my +presence. Now the key--I prefer door to window--the key, Mr. +Flowers--ah, here it is!" So saying, Ravenslee stood upright, and wiping +blood and sweat from him with his sleeve, turned to the door. "One other +thing, Mr. Flowers; have the goodness to take off your neckerchief next +time, or I--may strangle you outright." + +Halfway down the passage Ravenslee turned to see Murder close on his +heels. Once he smote and twice, but nothing might stay that bull-like +rush and, locked in a desperate clinch, he was borne back and back, +their trampling lost in the universal din about them, as reeling, +staggering, they crashed out through wrecked and splintered door and, +still locked together, were swallowed in the night beyond. + +Thus the Spider, crouching in the dark beneath the broken window with +Spike beside him, was presently aware of the sickening sounds of furious +struggling close at hand, and of a hoarse, panting voice that cursed in +fierce triumph--a voice that ended all at once in a ghastly strangling +choke; and recognising this voice, the Spider hunched his great +shoulders and bore Spike to a remote spot where stood a solitary +lamp-post. Here he waited, calm-eyed and chewing placidly, one arm about +the fretful Spike. + +Presently Ravenslee joined them; the shabby hat was gone, and there was +a smear of blood upon his cheek, also he laboured in his breathing, but +his eyes were joyous. + +"Bo, what about Bud?" + +"Oh, he's lying around somewhere." + +"Hully Chee--d' ye mean--" + +"He tried gouging first, but I expected that; then he tried to throttle +me, but I throttled a little harder. He's an ugly customer, as you said, +but"--Ravenslee laughed and glanced at his bloody knuckles--"I don't +think he'll be keen to rough it with me again just yet." + +"Bo, I guess you can be pretty ugly too--say, when you laugh that way I +feel--kind of sorry for Bud." + +"Why, what's wrong with Spike?" + +"Dunno--I guess they've been slinging dope into him. And he's copped it +pretty bad from Young Alf too--look at that eye!" + +"Spike!" said Ravenslee, shaking him, "Spike, what is it? Buck up, old +fellow!" But Spike only stared dazedly and moaned. + +"It's dope all right," nodded the Spider, "or else Bud's mixed th' +drinks on him." + +"Damn him!" said Ravenslee softly. "I wish I'd throttled a little +harder!" + +"I guess you give Bud all he needs for the present," said Spider grimly, +"anyway, I'm goin' t' see. The Kid ain't hurt none. Get him home t' bed, +an' he'll be all right s'long, long, Geoff." + +"Good night, Spider, and--thank you. Oh, by the way, who's Heine?" + +"Heine's a Deutscher, Geoff. Heine's about as clean as dirt an' as +straight as a corkscrew; why, he'd shoot his own mother if y' paid him, +like he did--but say, what d' you know about him, anyway?" + +"Well, for one thing, I know he's been arrested in Jersey City--" + +"Heine? Pinched? Say, bo, what yer givin' us--who says so?" + +"Bud, and--" + +But the Spider, waiting for no more, had turned about and was running +back across the open lot. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW M'GINNIS THREATENED AND--WENT + + +"Mr. Geoffrey, prayer is a wonderful prop to a anxious 'eart!" said Mrs. +Trapes, leaning over the banisters to greet him as he ascended. "Mr. +Geoffrey, my hands has been lifted in prayer for ye this night as so did +me behoove, and here you are safe back with--that b'y. A prayer prayed +proper, and prayed by them as ain't plaguein' the Lord constant about +their souls an' other diseases, is always dooly regarded. Yes, sir, a +occasional petition is always heard and worketh wonders as the--my land, +Mr. Geoffrey, look at your face!" + +"I know, Mrs. Trapes. Has she come in yet?" + +"Not yet--an' glad I am. You're all bleedin'--stoop your head a +bit--there!" and very tenderly she staunched the cut below the curly +hair with an apron clean and spotless as usual. "And the b'y--lord, +what's come to him?" + +"A black eye--two, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I'll look after him and get him +into bed before she comes; can you keep her away till I've done so?" + +"I'll try. Poor lad!" she sighed, touching Spike's drooping head with +bony fingers, "if she wasn't his sister, I'd be sorry for him!" + +So Ravenslee took Spike in hand, bathing his bruised and battered +features and setting ice water to his puffy lips, which the lad gulped +thirstily. Thereafter he revived quickly but grew only the more morose +and sulky. + +"All right," he muttered, "I'll go t' bed, only--leave me, see!" + +"Can't I help you?" + +"No--you lemme alone. Oh, I know--you think I'm soused, but I ain't; +I--I'm not drunk, I tell ye--I wish I was. I ain't no kid, so lemme +alone--an' I ain't drunk. What if me legs is shaky? So 'ud yours be if +you'd got--what I got. It was dat last swing t' d' jaw as done me--but +I ain't drunk 'n' I ain't a kid t' be undressed--so chase ye'self an' +lemme alone!" + +"All right, Spike--only get to bed like a good chap before your sister +comes." + +"You leave my sister alone; she ain't--that kind, an' she ain't fer you, +anyway." + +"That will do, Arthur--get into bed! I'll give you five minutes!" So +saying, Ravenslee turned away, but, as he closed the door, his quick ear +detected the clink of glass, and turning, he saw Spike draw a small +flask from his pocket. + +"Give me that stuff, old fellow." + +"Oh, you can't con me! I ain't a kid, so you lemme alone!" and Spike +raised the flask to his lips, but in that instant it was snatched away. +Spike staggered back to the wall and leaned there, passing his hand to +and fro across his brow as though dazed, then stumbled out into the room +beyond. + +"Gimme it, Geoff, gimme it!" he panted, "you won't keep it, no, no--Bud +slipped it to me after I come to. Gimme it, Geoff. I want t' forget--so +be a sport an' give it me--you will, won't ye?" + +Ravenslee shook his head, whereat the boy broke out more passionately: + +"Oh--don't ye see, Geoff--can't ye understand? I--I was knocked out +t'night--I took th' count! I--I'm done for, I had me chance, an' I +didn't make good! I--didn't--make good!" As he spoke, the lad hid his +bruised face within his hands, while great sobs shook him. + +"Why, Spike! Why, Arthur, old chap--never mind--" + +"Gimme th' bottle, Geoff! Be a pal an' gimme th' stuff--I want t' +forget!" + +"This wouldn't help you." + +"Give it me, d' ye hear--I want it--I'll have it, anyway--I'll--" +Spike's voice failed, and cowering back, he sank into a chair at sight +of her who stood within the doorway so very silent and pale of lip. + +"Ah, don't, Hermy--don't look at me like that," he whispered. "Your eyes +hurt me! I ain't drunk--this time!" + +"Oh, boy!" she sighed, "oh, boy--after all your promises!" + +Spike rose with hands stretched out appealingly, but even so, he swayed +slightly, and seeing this, she shivered. + +"Is it th' fightin' you mean, Hermy? Why, I did it all for you, Hermy, +all for you--I wanted t' be a champion 'cause all champions are rich. +I wanted t' make you a real lady--t' take you away from Mulligan's--but +now--I'm only--a 'has-been.' I've lost me chance--oh, Hermy, I'm done +for; I--oh, Geoff, I--think I'll--go to bed." + +So Ravenslee set down the flask, and, clasping an arm about Spike's +swaying form, led him from the room, while Hermione stood rigid and +watched them go. But when the door had closed behind them, she bowed her +head upon her hands and sobbed miserably, until, spying the half-emptied +flask through her tears, she sprang forward, and snatching it from the +table, dashed it passionately to the floor. + +"Oh, dear God of Heaven!" she whispered, sinking to her knees, "not that +way--ah, save him from that--keep him from treading that path!" With +head bowed upon her folded hands she knelt thus awhile until a sound in +the passage aroused her, and rising to her feet, she turned and +confronted Bud M'Ginnis. + +He stood upon the threshold, and though his glowing, eager eyes dwelt +yearningly upon her beauty, he made no motion to enter the room. Upon +one cheek the skin was torn and grazed from nose to ear, and upon his +powerful throat were vivid marks that showed fierce and red, and these +seemed to worry him, for even while he stared upon her loveliness, his +hand stole up to his neck, and he touched these glowing blotches gently +with his fingers. + +"God, Hermy," said he at last, "you get more beautiful every day!" + +She was silent, but reading the fierce scorn in her eyes, he laughed +softly and leaned nearer. "Some day, Hermy, you'll be--all mine! Oh, I +can wait; there's others, an' you're worth waitin' for, I guess. But +some day you'll come t' me--you shall--you must! Meantime there's +others, but some day it'll be you an' you only--when you're my wife. Ah, +marry me, Hermy; I could give you all you want, an' there'd never be any +one else for me--then!" + +Her eyes still met his unflinchingly, only she drew away from his +nearness, shivering a little; seeing which, he frowned and clenched one +hand, for the other had wandered up to his throat again. + +"Won't ye speak t' me?" he demanded savagely, then shrugging his great +shoulders, he continued in gentler tones: "I ain't here t' quarrel, +Hermy; I only came t' see if th' Kid got home all right." Hermione's +firm, red lips remained tightly closed. "Did he?" Hermione slowly +inclined her head. + +"Say now, Hermy," he went on, and his voice grew almost wheedling, +"there was a guy here the other night--a stranger, I guess--one o' these +tired, sleepy guys--one o' the reg'lar soft-talkin' nancy-boys--who is +he?" Hermione only sighed wearily, whereat his voice grew hoarse with +passion, and he questioned her fiercely: "Who is he, eh--who is he? What +was he doin' around here, anyway? Well, can't ye talk? Can't ye speak?" + +Hermione only looked at him, and before those calm, fearless eyes, +M'Ginnis burned in a wild yet impotent rage. + +"Won't talk, hey?" he questioned between grinding teeth. "Well, now, see +here, Hermy. If you let this guy come any love business with you behind +me back, it'll be his finish--an' he can blame you for it! An' see here +again--watch out for young Arthur. Oh!" he cried, seeing her flinch, +"you think you've got the Kid tied to ye, you think you've got him, I +guess--but you ain't! I've got him--right here!" and holding out his +hand, M'Ginnis slowly clenched it into a fist. "I've got th' Kid, +see--an' he's goin' th' way I want him--he's got to, see?" + +"Ah!" she cried, her scorn and fearless pride shattered to trembling +pleading at last. "What do you mean--oh, what do you mean?" + +"I mean as I want ye, an' I'm goin' to have ye!" he answered. "I mean +that instead of 'no' you're goin' t' give me 'yes'--for th' Kid's sake!" + +"What do you--mean?" she said again between quivering lips, her eyes +full of a growing terror. + +"Mean?" he continued relentlessly, viewing her trembling loveliness with +hungry eyes. "Well--that's what I mean!" and he pointed to the broken +flask upon the floor. "If you want t' see it in his face more an' more, +if you want t' smell it in his breath--say 'No!' If you want t' see his +hands begin t' shake, if you want t' hear his foot come stumbling up th' +stair--say 'No!' I guess you remember what it's like--you've seen it all +before. Well, if ye want Arthur t' grow into what his drunken father was +before him--say 'No!'" + +"Go away!" she moaned, "go away!" + +"Oh, I'll go, but first I'll tell you this--" + +"I think not, Mr. Flowers--no, I'm sure you won't!" + +Ravenslee's voice was soft and pleasant as usual, but before the burning +ferocity of his eyes, the merciless line of that grim, implacable mouth, +before all the hush and deadly purpose of him, the loud hectoring of +M'Ginnis seemed a thing of no account. Beholding his pale, set face +Hermione, sighing deeply, shrank away; even M'Ginnis blenched as, very +slowly, Ravenslee approached him, speaking softly the while. + +"Get out, Mr. Flowers, get out! Don't say another word--no, not one, if +only because of 'that dog-gone fool Heine!' Now go, or so help me God, +this time--I'll kill you!" + +Hermione leaned her trembling body against the table for support. And +yet--could it be fear that had waked this new glory in her eyes, had +brought this glowing colour to her cheek, had made her sweet breath pant +and hurry so--fear? + +M'Ginnis stood rigid, watching Ravenslee advance; suddenly he tried to +speak yet uttered no word; he raised a fumbling hand to his bruised and +swollen throat, striving again for speech but choked instead, and, +uttering a sound, hoarse and inarticulate, he swung upon his heel and +strode blindly away. + +Then Ravenslee turned to find Hermione sunk down beside the table, her +burning face hidden between her arms, her betraying eyes fast shut. + +"You are tired," he said gently, "that damned--er--I should say Mr. +Flowers and--other unpleasant things have upset you, haven't they?" + +Hermione made a motion of assent, and Ravenslee continued, softer than +before: + +"I wanted you to make up your mind to come away to-night, but--I can't +ask you now, can I? It--it wouldn't be--er--the thing, would it?" + +Hermione didn't answer or lift her head and, stooping above her, he saw +how she was trembling; but her eyes were still fast shut. + +"You--you're not afraid--of me, are you, Hermione?" + +"No." + +"And you're not--crying, are you?" + +"No." + +"Then I'd--better go, hadn't I? To Mrs. Trapes and supper--stewed beef, +I think, with--er--carrots and onions--" + +Her head was still bowed, and his tone was so light, his voice so lazy, +how was she to know that his hands were quivering or see how the passion +of his yearning was shaking him, fighting for utterance against his +iron will? How was she to know anything of all this until, swiftly, +lightly, he stooped and kissed the shining glory of her hair? In a while +she raised her head, but then--she was alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TELLS OF AN EARLY MORNING VISIT AND A WARNING + + +Ravenslee dreamed that he was in a wood--with Hermione, of course. She +came to him through the leafy twilight, all aglow with youth and love, +eager to give herself to his embrace. And from her eyes love looked at +him unashamed, love touched him in her soft caressing hands, came to him +in the passionate caress of her scarlet mouth, love cradled him in the +clasp of her white arms. And the sun, peeping down inquisitively through +the leaves, showed all the beauty of her and made a rippling splendour +of her hair. + +But now the woodpecker began a tap-tapping soft and insistent somewhere +out of sight, a small noise yet disturbing, that followed them +wheresoever they went. Thus they wandered, close entwined, but ever the +wood grew darker until they came at last to a mighty tree whose sombre, +far-flung branches shut out the kindly sun. And lo! within this gloom +the woodpecker was before them--a most persistent bird, this, +tap-tapping louder than ever, whereat Hermione, seized of sudden terror, +struggled in his embrace and, pointing upward, cried aloud, and was gone +from him. Then, looking where she had pointed, he beheld no woodpecker, +but the hated face of Bud M'Ginnis-- + +Ravenslee blinked drowsily at the wall where purple roses bloomed, at +the fly-blown text in the tarnished frame with its notable legend: + +LOVE ONE ANOTHER + +and sighed. But in his waking ears was the tap of the woodpecker, loud +and persistent as ever! Wherefore he started, stared, sat up suddenly +and, glancing toward the window, beheld a large cap and a pair of +shoulders he thought he recognised. + +"Why, Spider!" he exclaimed, "what the--" + +"Sufferin' Mike!" sighed the Spider plaintively, "here I've been +knockin' at your all-fired winder--knockin' an' knockin', an' here +you've been snorin' and snorin'." + +"No, did I snore, Spider?" + +"Bo, you sure are a bird for snorin'." + +"Damn it!" said Ravenslee, frowning, "I must break myself of it." + +"Thinkin' of gettin' married, bo?" + +"Married? What the--" + +"She'll soon get useter it, I guess--they all do!" said the unabashed +Spider. "Anyway, if you didn't snore exactly, you sure had a strangle +hold on the snooze business, all right. Here's me crawled out o' me +downy little cot t' put ye wise t' Bud's little game, an' here's you +diggin' into the feathers t' beat th' band!" + +"But the window was open; why didn't you come in right away?" + +"Not much, bo, I ain't the kind o' fool as makes a habit o' wakin' your +kind out o' their beauty sleep sudden, no more I ain't a guy as takes +liberties in strange bedrooms, see?" + +"Well, come in, Spider--sit on the bed; I haven't a chair to offer. By +the way, I have to thank you--" + +"Whaffor?" + +"Breaking that window--" + +"Oh, I guess it wasn't a bad wheeze." + +"It gave me the chance I wanted, Spider." + +"Which you sure gripped with both mitts, bo!" + +"Now have a cigar--in that coat pocket--" + +"Not me, Geoff! Smoke's bad for th' wind, that's why I've took t' gum." +Saying which, the Spider proceeded to take out and open a packet of that +necessary adjunct, and having posted it into his mouth piece by piece, +fell to grim mastication. + +"Bo," said he suddenly, "you come away without your roof last night." + +"Eh?" said Ravenslee, blinking drowsily, "my what?" + +"Your lid, bo." + +"You mean my old hat?" + +"That's what I'm tryin' t' tell you--an' say, that sure is the hardest +bean cover I ever spotted; made of iron, is it? Where'd you find it?" + +"At some dim and distant day it originated in England, I believe." + +"Well, that lid would turn a poleaxe, sure; that's why I brought it +back--it's out on the fire escape now." + +"Very kind of you, Spider, but--" + +"Bo, you're goin' t' need that hat an' a soot o' tin underwear from now +on unless--well, unless you pack y'r trunk an' clear out o' Hell's +Kitchen on th' jump." + +"Why so?" + +"Well, you certainly handed Bud a whole lot more 'n he's ever had +before, an' it's a full house to a pair o' dooces he ain't lookin' for +no more from you just yet. But then, Bud ain't no pet lamb nor yet a +peace conference, an' it's four aces to a bum-flush he means t' get back +at ye some way--an' get ye good!" + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee, yawning. + +"And oh some more!" nodded the Spider; "it's sure comin' t' you. When I +got back las' night, there's Bud settin' against th' wall lookin' like +an exhibit from the morgue, fightin' for breath t' cuss you with. 'N' +say, you sure had done him up some, which I wasn't nowise sad or peeved +about, no, sir! Me an' Bud's never been what you might call real +kittenish an' playful together. But it seems you ain't only soaked an' +throttled him good an' plenty, but he's gone an' let out t' you about +that guy Heine--an' consequently you've gotter be kept from opening y'r +mouth--see? Consequently it's you for a sudden an' hasty hike." + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee again. + +"Twice!" nodded the Spider, "with a F an' a L thrown in--that's what +you'll be, Geoff, if you try t' buck Bud an' th' gang. So here I've +shinnied up y'r fire escape to put ye wise an' lend a hand to make your +swift get-away." + +Ravenslee sighed and settled his head more comfortably on his pillow. +"You think I ought to go, Spider?" + +"I don't think--I know! Your number's up, Geoff--it's you against th' +field, an', bo--they're some field!" + +"You think there's real danger, then?" enquired Ravenslee, staring up at +the fly-blown text with shining eyes. + +"As real as--death, bo!" + +"Not so long ago I regarded Death as my best friend--" + +"How much?" demanded the Spider, suspending mastication. + +"Nothing, Spider, a mere passing thought." + +"Well, I'm tellin' ye they'll get ye sure--it'll be th' water or a +forty-four bullet, or a blackjack or a knife--but you'll get it one way +or another!" + +"Sounds cheering!" + +"An' it ain't over-pleasant t' be sandbagged." + +"No, Spider." + +"Nor t' feel a lead pipe wrapped round th' back o' y'r bean." + +"No indeed, Spider." + +"Nor yet t' feel a stiletta diggin' between y'r shoulders or over y'r +collar bone." + +"Worst of all, Spider." + +"Well, you'd best pack y'r little trunk an' fade away, bo!" Ravenslee +sat up suddenly and looked at the Spider with eyes very bright and wide. + +"Not for all the gangs that ever ganged!" said he softly. + +"Eh?" exclaimed the Spider, staring, "what's yer game?" + +"I'm going to try to buck this gang clean out of existence." + +"You are, eh?" + +"I am." + +"Bo," sighed the Spider, shaking his head, "you ain't a ordinary +fool--you're a damned fool!" + +"And you're going to help me, Spider!" + +"Not me, bo, not me--I'm only just an ordinary fool!" + +"Well, we'll let it go at that!" said Ravenslee, and lying back, he +yawned again. + +"Don't do that, bo, don't do that!" exclaimed the Spider. "I'm thinkin' +what you'll look like after you've been floatin' around in th' river--a +week, say! You'd best get out o' Hell's Kitchen, bo--don't stop to ask +where to, but--go there." + +"My Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "in Hell's Kitchen I +should have to leave all that makes life worth while, so--I shall stay, +of course, and chance the--er--river and things." + +"Well, I guess it's your trouble, not mine." + +"But I want it to be yours too, Spider. You see, I'm counting on you to +help me smash this gang." + +"Bo, it looks like you're goin' t' do a hell of a lot o' countin'--an' +then some more, before you count me in on this fool game. Say"--he +paused to stare at Ravenslee, keen-eyed and with jaws clamped +rigid--"you ain't a fly-cop--one o' these sleuthy gum-shoe men, are ye?" + +"No." + +"Well, you ain't one o' these fool amateur guys doin' the dare-devil +detective act like you read about in th' magazines, are ye?" + +"No more than you are one of these dirty gang loafers you hear about +around O'Rourke's--and that's why you're going to help me root 'em out." + +"Sufferin' Pete!" sighed the Spider, "here I keep tellin' you I ain't on +in this act, an' here you keep on ringin' me in frequent all the same." + +"Because you are a man, Spider Connolly, and white all through, and +because to smash up this gang is going to be man's work." + +"Well, it sure ain't no job for Sophy the Satin-skinned Show-girl--nor +yet for two nice, quiet little fellers like you an' me." + +"We shan't be quite alone, Spider." + +"That's some comfortin', anyway!" + +"There will be Joe Madden, for one." + +"Joe Mad--" The Spider very nearly bolted his wad of chewing gum, then +he rose and stood staring at Ravenslee, very round of eye. "So you know +Joe Madden, the best all-round champion that ever happened, eh?" + +"I box with him every day." + +"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, and chewed fervently in silent +astonishment. Suddenly he lifted his head and stood as one that hearkens +to distant sounds, and crossing stealthily to the window, climbed out. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Mother Trapes, bo. She's just rollin' out o' th' feathers, an' she's +quite enough for me--always has me fazed to a frazzle. If she caught me +here it 'ud be th' gimlet eye for mine--so here's where I fade away." + +"Anyway, come and have tea here with me to-night, Spider, unless +you think I am--er--too dangerous to visit just now on account of +M'Ginnis--" + +"Dangerous?" repeated the Spider, scowling, "bo, when I get a call t' +free food with a guy like you, danger gets lost in th' shuffle an' +forgotten--I'll be there. Now here's your bean cover--catch! S' long!" +And nodding, Spider promptly vanished down the fire escape. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CHIEFLY CONCERNING A LETTER + + +"Sunday," said Mrs. Trapes sententiously, "Sunday is a holy day t' some +folks an' a holiday for other folks, but t' folks like me an' Hermy it +sure ain't no day of rest an' gladness--like the hymn book says." + +"Isn't it?" said Ravenslee, pushing away his coffee cup and glancing +toward the loud-ticking clock upon the sideboard. + +"It sure ain't!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, quick to note the look. "Hermy an' +me ain't much given to Sunday observance, Mr. Geoffrey. Y' see, there's +always meals t' be cooked an' washin' up t' be done, an' clo'es t' be +mended p'raps. I've darned many a 'eartfelt prayer into a wore-out pair +o' stockin's before now an' offered up many a petition t' the Throne o' +grace with my scrubbin' brush sloshin' over the floor. Anyway, Hermy 'n' +me ain't never had much time for church-goin' or prayer meetin's or +mindin' our souls in our best frocks an' bonnets--no, sir! We jest have +t' get on with our work--sewin' an' cookin' an' washin'--mindin' the +welfare of other folks' bodies. So while them as has time an' +inclination sing their praises t' the Lord on their knees, Hermy an' me +take out our praises in work, an' have t' leave our souls t' God +an'--oh, well, I guess he'll take care of 'em all right--don't y' +think?" + +"I certainly do!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"O' course, my soul ain't all it should be--a bit stained here +an' there, p'raps--a bit th' worse for wear, Mr. Geoffrey, but +Hermy's--well, there, I guess it's jest as sweet as a flower still, an' +white--as white as that tablecloth. An' talkin' about her soul--what +about her body, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +Ravenslee started. "Her body?" said he, staring. "Well, since you ask, +I should say it is like her soul--very sweet and white and--" + +"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "but, bein' only flesh an' blood after +all--bein' only miserable clay like yours an' mine, Mr. Geoffrey, it'll +always need food t' nourish it, clo'es t' keep it warm, an' a roof t' +shelter it. Well, if she was t' be s' mad as t' marry a peanut man, what +about food an' clo'es an' a roof?" + +"I think they could be managed, Mrs. Trapes." + +"What--out o' peanuts?" + +"No--er--the fact is, I've given 'em up." + +Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Y' don't say!" she remarked drily. "Think o' that, +now!" + +"The fact is, Mrs. Trapes, I--well, suppose I were to confess to you +that I'm not quite so poor as I seem--what should you say?" + +"Why, I should say as I knew that about three weeks ago, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"Oh, did you?" said Ravenslee, staring. "How in the world did you find +out?" + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell ye how. I got eyes an' I got ears, an' +sometimes I can see a bit with my eyes an' hear with my ears--that's +how! Oh, I've watched ye, Mr. Geoffrey--I've watched ye careful +because--well, because I sure love Hermy, an' 't would jest break my +'eart t' see her fallin' in love with a rogue!" + +"So you think--that she is--falling in love, then?" enquired Ravenslee +slowly. + +"Well, Hermy's Hermy, an' she's wrote you two letters to my knowin'--" + +"No, only one, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Now Hermy ain't the kind o' girl t' write twice to a man unless--" + +"But she has only written me one letter, Mrs. Trapes--the one she left +with you last week." + +"Oh, well--here's the other!" said Mrs. Trapes, laying before him an +envelope addressed in the handwriting he had come to know so well. + +"Why didn't you give it to me before?" he enquired. + +"Her orders, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"Orders?" + +"Orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "She come in here last night an' give it +me after you was gone t' bed. 'Ann dear,' she says, 'don't let him have +it till half after ten t' morrer,' she says. An' it's nearly eleven +now--so there's y'r letter!" + +"But," said Ravenslee, "why on earth--" + +"P'raps th' letter'll tell you, Mr. Geoffrey; s'pose you read it while I +clear away your breakfast things!" + +Hereupon Ravenslee opened the letter and read these words: + +My dear, + +It would be my joy to trust myself to you utterly, to go with you to the +world's end if you would have it so. Only I'm afraid that I am not quite +what you would have me. I'm afraid that I might sometimes do things that +would remind you that I had been only a scrubwoman. I'm afraid that some +day you might regret. Were I to answer you now, I should answer you +selfishly--so, please, you must give me time to think, for both our +sakes. Love has never come near me before, and now I am a little afraid, +for love is not little and tender and babyish, but great and strong and +very fierce and masterful--that is why I am afraid of it. So I must go +away from you, from the sound of your voice, the touch of your hand--to +think it all out. My work will take me to Englewood to-morrow, and I want +you to wait for your answer until I come back, for then I shall have +decided one way or the other. But in Englewood the memory of your words +will be with me still--oh, did you mean all, quite all you said, and did +you say quite all you meant to say--did you? Did you? For indeed it has +seemed to me that if you really meant all you said you might have said a +little more--just a little more. This is a dreadfully long letter and +very badly expressed, I know, but I dare not read it through. But what +I have written is written from my heart. + +Hermione. + +P.S. I shall be in Englewood three whole days. + +"Will strawberry jam an' angel cake an' a bunch or so o' water cress be +enough, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +Ravenslee sat staring down at the letter, rubbing his square, +fresh-shaven chin as one very much at a loss. + +"'Might have said a little more--just a little more,'" he muttered, his +gaze focussed upon a certain line. + +"Will water cress an' angel cake an' a pot o' strawberry jam soot, Mr. +Geoffrey?" + +"Now I wonder what the dickens she can mean?" mused Ravenslee. + +"She means jest strawberry jam an' angel cake an' water cress, fer +tea--fer your visitors," said Mrs. Trapes, with a patient sigh. + +"Visitors!" repeated Ravenslee, glancing up. "Why, yes, they'll be here +about four o'clock." + +"An' will water cress an' angel cake an'--" + +"Quite enough! Certainly! Admirable!" exclaimed Ravenslee. "But what +beats me," he continued, staring down at the letter again, "is what she +can mean by writing this." + +"Not knowin' what she's wrote, I can't say." + +"Mrs. Trapes, I know you are Hermione's best and staunchest friend, and +lately I have ventured to hope you are mine too. As such, I want you to +read this letter--see if you can explain it!" + +So Mrs. Trapes took the letter; and when she had read it through, folded +it together with hands very gentle and reverent and stood awhile staring +out into the sunlit court. + +"My land!" she said at last, her harsh voice grown almost soft, "love's +a wonderful thing, I reckon. No wonder your eyes shine so. Yes, love's +a great an' wonderful thing--my land!" + +"But can you explain," said Ravenslee, as he took back the letter, "can +you tell me what she means by--" + +"Shucks, Mr. Geoffrey! That sure don't want no explainin'. When you said +all you did say to her, did y' say anything about 'wife' or 'marriage'?" + +"Why, of course I did!" + +"Sure?" + +"Yes--er--that is--I think so." + +"Not sure then?" + +"Well, I may have done so--I must have done so, but really +I--er--forget--" + +"Forget!" Mrs. Trapes snorted. "Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, what d' +ye want with Hermy; is it a wife you're after or only--" + +"Mrs. Trapes!" Ravenslee was upon his feet, and before the sudden glare +in his eyes Mrs. Trapes gaped and for once fell silent. "Mrs. Trapes," +said he, still frowning a little, "really you--you almost--made me +angry." + +"My land!" said she, "I'm kind o' glad I didn't--quite!" and her sniff +was eloquent. + +"You see," he went on, glancing down at the letter again, "I've learned +to love and reverence her so much that your suggestion--hurt rather!" + +"Why, then, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm sorry. But if your love is so big an' true +as all that--if you want her t' be a wife t' you--why in the 'tarnal +didn't ye speak out an' tell her so?" + +"I'll go and tell her so this minute." + +"Y' can't! She's gone t' Bronx Park with that b'y, 'n' won't be back +all day." + +"Damn!" exclaimed Ravenslee. + +"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Keep on, it'll do ye good. But anyway, what +y' got t' say'll keep, I guess--it'll gush out all the stronger fer +bein' bottled up a day or two." + +"I can write!" he suggested. + +"You can--but you won't--you'll tell her with your two lips--a woman +likes it better spoke--if spoke proper--I should! With arms entwined an' +eyes lookin' into eyes an'--oh, shucks! Will angel cake an' strawberry +jam--" + +"They'll be ample, and--thank you, dear Mrs. Trapes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HOW THE OLD UN AND CERTAIN OTHERS HAD TEA + + +"Old Un," said Joe, halting his aged companion in the middle of the +second flight to wag a portentous finger, "Old Un, mind this now--if +there should 'appen to be cake for tea, don't go makin' a ancient beast +of yourself with it--no slippin' lumps of it into your pocket on the +sly, mind, because if I ketch ye at it--" + +"Don't be 'arsh, Joe, don't be 'arsh! Cake comes soft t' me pore old +teef." + +"An' mind this again--if there should be any jam about, no stickin' ye +wicked old fingers into it an' lickin' 'em behind my back." + +"You lemme an' the jam alone, Joe; it's a free country, ain't it?--very +well, then!" + +"Free country be blowed! You mind what I say, you venerable old bag of +iniquity, you!" + +"'Niquity yerself!" snarled the Old Un, and snapping bony finger and +thumb under Joe's massive chin, turned and went on up the stairs, his +smart straw hat cocked at a defiant angle, his brilliant shoes creaking +loudly at every step. + +"Oh, Gorramighty!" he panted, halting suddenly on the fifth landing to +get his breath, "these perishin' stairs 'as ketched my wind, Joe; it's +worse 'n th' treadmill! Is there many more of 'em?" + +"Only six flights!" nodded Joe grimly. + +"Six!" wailed the Old Un. "Lord--it'll be the death o' me!" + +"Well, it's about time you was dead," nodded Joe. + +"Dead ye'self!" snarled the old man. "I'm a better figger of a man than +ever you was--" + +"An' you would come," continued Joe serenely, as he deftly resettled the +old fellow's sporty bow-tie. "You fair plagued me to bring ye along, +didn't ye, old packet o' vindictiveness?" + +"Well, an' here I am, Joe, an' here I mean t' stay--no more climbin' fer +me; I'm tired, me lad, tired!" Saying which, the Old Un spread his +handkerchief on a convenient stair and proceeded to seat himself thereon +with due regard for his immaculately creased trousers. + +"Well," growled Joe, "of all the perverse old raspers that ever I did +see--" + +"That's enough, Joe, that's enough!" exclaimed the Old Un, fanning +himself with his rakish hat. "Jest bend down and flick the dust off me +shoes with your wipe, like a good lad, will ye? That's the worst o' +these 'ere patent leathers; they looks well, but they sure ketches th' +dust, Joe, they ketches the dust oncommon bad. So jest give 'em a flick +over--me pore old back's too stiff t' let me reach 'em, what wi' me +rheumatiz an' a floatin' kidney or so--" + +"Kidneys!" snarled Joe, drawing out a large bandanna handkerchief and +polishing the old man's natty shoes until they shone resplendent. +"What's the matter with ye blessed kidneys now?" + +"Don't I tell ye--they floats, Joe, they floats!" + +"Float!" growled Joe. "Float--where to?" + +"'Ere, there, an' everywhere, Joe, I can feel 'em! They're always +a-gettin' theirselves all mixed up any'ow. Oh, it's an 'orrible +complaint to 'ave kidneys like mine as gets theirselves lost." + +"Wish they'd lose you along with 'em!" growled Joe, shaking the dust +from his handkerchief. + +"Joe," said the old man, putting on his hat and blinking up at him +beneath its jaunty brim, "Joe, sometimes I fair despise ye!" + +"Well, despise away," nodded Joe, "only get up--stand up on them +doddering old pins o' yourn." + +"Not me!" declared the Old Un, "I ain't goin' to climb no more o' these +perishin' stairs--no, not for you nor nobody. 'Ere I am, me lad, an' +'ere I sits till you give me a piggy-back up to the top--me bein' a pore +old cove with rheumatiz. I demands it--" + +"You'll what?" growled Joe, hard-breathing and indignant. + +"Demand it, Joe--a pore old feller wi' kidneys--an' every other ailment +as flesh is hair to--a piggy-back, Joe--a piggy-back!" + +Without another word Joe stooped, and lifting the old man beneath one +arm, bore him up the stairs regardless of his croaking protestations and +fierce invective. + +"I said a piggy-back--oh, you blightin' perisher, I said a piggy-back," +he snarled, his resplendent shoes twinkling in futile kicks. "Oh, Joe, +there's times when I fair 'ates ye!" + +Thus, despite virulent curses and feeble kickings, Joe bore him on +and up until, as he climbed the last flight, he was arrested by an +exclamation from above, and glancing upward, beheld a tall, +sharp-featured woman who leaned over the rail. + +"Oh, land o' my fathers!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "what's the +matter--what you got there? Who are ye?" + +"The matter, ma'am," answered Joe, for by this time the Old Un had +cursed himself quite breathless, "the matter's contrariness; what I +'ave under my arm, ma'am, is a old reprobate, and I'm Joe Madden, ma'am, +come to take tea with my--come, as you might say, a visiting to Mr. +Geoffrey; p'raps you'll--" + +"Don't 'eed 'im, ma'am--never 'eed 'im!" croaked the Old Un, who had +regained his wind by now. "'E 's a perishin' pork pig, that's wot 'e is. +Joe, you blighter, put me down. It's me as the Guv expects--it's me as +'as come a-visitin'--Joe, put me down, you perisher. Joe's only a hoaf, +ma'am, a nass, ma'am. Joe ain't used to perlite serciety, Joe don't know +nothin'--put me down, Joe, like a good lad!" + +At this juncture Ravenslee appeared, whereupon Joe, having reached +the topmost landing, set the old man upon his natty feet and fell to +straightening his smart clothes with hands big but gentle. + +"Sir," explained Joe, answering Ravenslee's smiling look, "Old Sin an' +Sorrer here wouldn't walk up, which forced me to--" + +But now the Old Un, feeling himself again, cut in on his own account. +"Ma'am," said he, flourishing off his hat to Mrs. Trapes, "'ere 's me +an' me lad Joe come to tea--my best respex an' greetin's, ma'am. How do, +Guv? I do 'ope as you ain't forgot th' cake." + +"Oh, we've plenty of cake, Old Un!" laughed Ravenslee. + +"An' water cress an' jam!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. + +"Guv," said the old man, gripping Ravenslee's hand, "God bless ye for a +true man an' a noble sport. Ma'am, you're a angel! Jam, ma'am--you're +a nymp'--you're two nymp's-- + +"'I oft would cast a rovin' eye + Ere these white 'airs I grew, ma'am, + To see a 'andsome nymp' go by, + But none s' fair as you, ma'am.' + +"An' there's me hand on it, ma'am." + +"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, staring; then all at once she +laughed, a strange laugh that came and went again immediately, yet left +her features a little less grim than usual, as, reaching out, she +grasped the old man's feeble hand. + +"I guess you're only bein' p'lite," said she, "but jest for that you're +sure goin' t' eat as much cake an' jam as your small insides can hold." +So saying, she led the way into her small and very neat domain and +ushered them into the bright little parlour where the Spider sat already +enthroned in that armchair whereon sunflowers rioted. Like the chair, +the Spider was somewhat exotic as to socks and tie, and he seemed a +trifle irked by stiff cuffs and collar as he sat staring at the green +and yellow tablecloth and doing his best not to tread upon the pink +hearthrug. + +"Joe," said Ravenslee, "this is Spider Connolly, who knocked out Larry +McKinnon at San Francisco last year in the sixty-ninth. Spider, I want +you to shake hands with--" + +"Bo," exclaimed the Spider, rising reverently and taking a step toward +Joe's massive figure, quite forgetful of the pink hearthrug now, "you +don't have t' tell me nothin'. I guess I know th' best all-round +fightin' man, the greatest champion as ever swung a mitt, when I see +him! T' shake his hand'll sure be--" + +"Young feller, me lad," cried the Old Un, reaching out nimbly and +catching the Spider's extended hand, "you got a sharp eye, a true eye--a +eye as can discrimpinate, like--ah, like a flash o' light. You're right, +me lad, I was the best fightin' man, the greatest champeen as ever +was--sixty odd years ago. Ho, yus, I were the best of 'em all, an' I +ain't t' be sniffed at now. So shake me 'and, me lad--an' shake--hard!" + +The Spider's grim jaw relaxed, and his eyes opened very wide as the Old +Un continued to shake his hand up and down. + +"But, say," said he faintly at last, "I don't--" + +"No more don't I," nodded the Old Un, "what's the old song say: + +"'I don't care if it rains or snows + Or what the day may be + Since 'ere's a truth I plainly knows + Love, you'll remember me.'" + +"But say," began the bewildered Spider again. "Say, I reckon--" + +"So do I," nodded the Old Un: + +"'I reckon up my years o' life + An' a good long life 'ave I. + Ye see, I never had a wife, + P'raps that's the reason why.' + +"So take it from me, young feller, me cove, don't 'ave nothin' to do +with givin' or takin' in marriage." + +"Marriage?" + +"Marriage ain't good for a fightin' cove--it spiles him, it shakes +'is nerve, it fair ruinates 'im. When love flies in at the winder, +champeenships fly up the chimbley--never t' come back no more. So beware +o' wives, me lad." + +"Wives!" repeated the Spider, lifting free hand to dazed brow, "I--I +ain't never--" + +"That's right!" nodded the Old Un heartily, shaking the Spider's +unresisting hand again, "marriage ain't love, an' love ain't marriage. +Wot's the old song say: + +"'Oh, love is like a bloomin' rose + But marriage is a bloomin' thorn. + An 'usband 's full o' bloomin' woes + An' 'caves a bloomin' sigh each morn--'" + +"Why, Old Un!" exclaimed Ravenslee, "that's a very remarkable verse!" + +"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows in the doorway, +"I suspects he's a poet--an' him sech a nice little old gentleman!" + +"A poet, ma'am!" exclaimed the Old Un indignantly, "not me, ma'am, not +me--should scorn t' be. I'm a 'ighly respected old fightin' man, I am, +as never went on th' cross: + +"'A fightin' man I, ma'am, + An' wish I may die, ma'am, + If ever my backers I crossed; + An' what's better still, ma'am, + Though I forgot many a mill, ma'am, + Not one of 'em ever I lost.'" + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes again. "What a memory!" + +"Memory, ma'am!" growled Joe, "that ain't memory; 'e makes 'em up as 'e +goes along--" + +"Joe," said the Old Un, glaring, "if the lady weren't here, an' axin' +'er pardon--I'd punch you in the perishin' eye-'ole for that!" + +"All right, old vindictiveness," sighed Joe, "an' now, if you'll let go +of Spider Connolly's fist, I'd like to say 'ow do. Sit down an' give +some one else a chance to speak--sit down, you old bag o' wind--" + +"Bag o'--" the old man dropped the Spider's nerveless hand to turn to +Mrs. Trapes with a gloomy brow. "You 'eard that, ma'am--you 'eard this +perishin' porker call me a bag o'--Joe, I blush for ye! Ma'am, pore Joe +means well, but 'e can't 'elp bein' a perisher--but"--and here the Old +Un raised and shook a feeble old fist--"I've a good mind t' ketch 'im +one as would put 'im t' sleep for a fortnight--I've a good mind--" + +But Mrs. Trapes caught that tremulous fist and drawing the Old Un's arm +through her own, turned to the door. + +"You come along with me," said she, "you shall help me t' get the tea; +you shall carry in th' cake an'--" + +"Cake!" exclaimed the Old Un, "Oh, j'yful word, ma'am; you're a--a +lidy! An' there's jam, ain't there?" + +"Strawberry!" + +"Straw--oh, music t' me ears, ma'am--you're a nymp'--lead me to it!" So +saying, the Old Un followed Mrs. Trapes out into the kitchen, while the +Spider stared after him open-mouthed. + +"Sufferin' Pete!" he murmured, then, inhaling a long, deep breath, +turned to grasp Joe's mighty, outstretched hand. Then, drawing their +chairs together, they sat down, and Ravenslee, by an adroit question +or two, soon had them talking, the Spider quick and eager and chewing +voraciously, Joe soft-voiced and deliberate but speaking with that calm +air of finality that comes only of long and varied experience. So, while +Ravenslee smoked and listened, they spoke of past battles, of fights and +fighters old and new; they discoursed learnedly on ringcraft, they +discussed the merits of the crouch as opposed to the stiff leg and +straight left; they stood up to show tricks of foot and hand--cunning +shifts and feints; they ducked and side-stepped and smote the empty air +with whirling fists to the imminent peril of the owl that was a parrot, +which moth-eaten relic seemed to watch them with his solitary glass eye. +And ever the Spider's respect and admiration for the mild-eyed, +quiet-spoken champion waxed and grew. + +"Bo!" said he, dexterously catching the toppling bird, glass case and +all, for the second time, and addressing Ravenslee with it clasped to +his heart, "bo," he repeated, his eyes shining, "I guess Joe Madden, the +greatest battler of 'em all, is--Joe Madden still. I've always wanted t' +meet with him, an' say--I wouldn't ha' missed him for a farm." + +"Is that so!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, entering the room at this moment +with the tea-cloth, "well, now--you jest put 'im down--you jest put that +bird back again, Spider Connolly!" + +"Yes, ma'am," quoth the Spider, all abashed humility. + +"What you doin' with it, anyway?" she demanded, elbows jutted ominously; +"it's lost a eye, an' a cat got it once an' sp'iled it some, but I +treasure it fer reasons o' sentiment, an' if you think you c'n steal +it--" + +"Not 'im, ma'am, not 'im!" piped the Old Un from the doorway, "it ain't +the pore lad's fault. It's Joe, blame it all on to Joe--Joe's got a bad +'eart, ma'am, a black, base-'earted perisher is Joe--so no jam for Joe, +ma'am, an' only one slice o' cake." + +Here Ravenslee hastened to explain, whereupon Mrs. Trapes's grimness +abated, and her bristling elbows subsided; and now, perceiving how the +abashed Spider, meeting her eye, flushed, plucked at his cuffs, and +shuffled his feet, she reached out to pat his broad and drooping +shoulder. + +"Mister Connolly," said she, "for harsh words spoke in haste I craves +now your pardon, an' I craves it--humble. Am I forgive?" + +The Spider, flushing redder than ever, rose to his feet, seized her +hand, shook it, and muttered: "Sure!" + +When the table was laid, the Old Un proposed, and was duly seconded, +thirded, and fourthed, that Mrs. Trapes be elected into the chair to +pour out the tea, which she proceeded to do forthwith, while the Old Un, +seated at her right hand, kept a wary eye roving between jam dish and +angel cake. And by reason of the unwonted graciousness of Mrs. Trapes, +of Ravenslee's tact and easy assurance, and the Old Un's impish +hilarity, all diffidence and restraint were banished, and good +fellowship reigned supreme, though the Spider was interrupted in the +midst of a story by the Old Un suddenly exclaiming: + +"Keep your hand out o' the jam, Joe!" + +And Joe was later rendered speechless, hard-breathing, and indignant, by +the Old Un turning to Mrs. Trapes with the shrill warning: + +"Ma'am, Joe's 'ad two 'elpin's o' cake an' got 'is 'orrid eye on what +remains!" + +Nevertheless, the meal was in all ways a success, and Ravenslee was +reaching for his pipe when Mrs. Trapes, summoned to the front door by a +feverish knocking, presently came back followed by Tony, whose bright +eyes looked wider than usual as he saluted the company. + +"Hey, Geoff, me tell-a you piece-a da-noos!" he cried excitedly, "big-a +piece-a da-noos. Da cops go-a pinch-a Bud-a M'Ginn'!" + +"Bud? Bud?" stammered the Spider. "Have they pinched Bud? Is this the +straight goods, Tony?" + +"Sure--they gott-a heem this-a morn in Jersey City--'n' say, he think-a +eet a frame-up--he theenk-a Geoff set-a de cops for-a take heem." + +"The hell he does!" exclaimed the Spider, starting to his feet. + +"So he send-a da word to Soapy," continued Tony, his eyes rolling, "an' +now all-a da gang's out layin' for-a Geoff. So when Geoff go-a out on +da street--bingo! Dey snuff hees light out--" + +"Not much they won't!" said the Spider, buttoning up his coat and +turning to the door. "I'll mighty soon fix this, I guess." + +"Do you think you can, Spider?" enquired Ravenslee. "If you're going to +have any trouble, don't bother about--" + +"Bo," said the Spider, squaring his big jaw, "get onto this: here's +where I chip in with ye; from now on we're in this game together, an' +I ain't a guy as'll lay down his hand till I'm called--an' called good, +see? You said it was goin' t' be a man's work--by Jiminy Christmas, it +looks like you're right; anyway, I stand in with you, that's sure--put +it there, bo!" + +"But," said Ravenslee, as their hands gripped, "I don't want you to take +any chances on my account, or run any--" + +"Fudge, bo, fudge! I ain't takin' no chances--" + +"Well, I'm coming along to see you don't!" said Ravenslee, reaching for +his hat. + +"Not on your life, bo; you'd queer th' whole show. Y' see, they're a +tough crowd an' apt t' act a bit hasty now an' then; 'sides, they might +think you're heeled, and they know I don't never carry a gun--they all +know me--" + +"Still, I'm coming, Spider--" + +"Y' can't, bo; Mrs. Trapes ain't goin' t' let ye--look at her!" + +"You never spoke a truer word since you drawed the vital air, Spider +Connolly!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, hands on hips and elbows at the "engage." +"If Mr. Geoffrey stirs out this day, he's jest gotter trample over my +mangled remains, that's all!" + +Heeding the glitter in her eye and noting the inexorable jut of her +elbows, Ravenslee sat down and went on filling his pipe. + +"Y' see, bo, I know as it wasn't you as give Bud away, an' the boys'll +listen t' my say-so--you bet they will. So here's where I ooze away. S' +long, all!" + +The Old Un, having bolted the last handful of cake, got upon his legs +and clutched the Spider's coat in talon-like fingers. + +"'Old 'ard, young feller, me lad!" he cried. "If there's any chance of +a scrap comin' off--wot about me? Gimme me 'at, Joe, an' get yourn; if I +don't knock some on 'em stone cold--call me a perishin' ass!" + +"Why, since you say so, old blood an' bones," said Joe, his mild eye +brightening, "we will step along with the Spider a little way if the +Guv'nor'll excuse us?" + +"Certainly, Joe," nodded Ravenslee, "on condition that you do just as +the Spider says." + +"You mean, sir?" + +"No fighting, Joe--at least, not yet." + +"Trust me, sir! What ain't to be--yet, is to be sometime, I 'opes," +sighed Joe. + +"Good-by, Guv, good-by!" croaked the Old Un, "if I don't put some o' +they perishers in the 'orspitals an' the infirmaries--I ain't the man I +was-- + +"'Oh, used am I to war's alarms + I 'unger for the fray, + Though beauty clasps me in 'er arms + The trumpet calls away.'" + +So having made their adieux, the three took their departure; though +once, despite Joe's objurgations, the Old Un must needs come back to +kiss Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand with a flourish which left her +voiceless and round of eye until the clatter of their feet had died +away. + +Then she closed the door and fixed Ravenslee with her stoniest stare. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," she demanded, "why did they call you 'Guv'nor', and +wherefore 'Sir'?" + +Ravenslee, in the act of lighting his pipe, had paused for a suitable +answer, when Tony, who had remained mute in a corner, stepped forward +and spoke: + +"Say, Geoff, I got-a bit-a more noos. Old-a Finlay-a want-a spik with-a +you--" + +"Old Finlay--with me?" + +"Sure. Old-a Finlay-a go die-a ver' queek, an' he vant-a spik with-a you +first." + +"Dying! Old Finlay dying?" questioned Ravenslee, rising. + +"Sure! He go die-a ver' queek." + +"I'll come!" + +"An' I guess," said Mrs. Trapes, "yes, I opine as I'll come along wi' +ye, Mr. Geoffrey." + +Old Martin Finlay lay propped up by pillows, his great, gaunt, useless +body seeming almost too large for the narrow bed wherein he lay, staring +up great-eyed at Ravenslee--live eyes in a dead face. + +"It's dying I am, sorr," said he faintly, "an' it's grateful is ould +Martin for the docthers and medicine you've paid for. But it's meself +is beyand 'em all--an' it's beyand 'em I'm goin' fast. She's waitin' +for me--me little Maggie's houlding out her little hand to me--she's +waitin' for me--beyand, Holy Mary be praised! An' she's waited long +enough, sorr, my little Maggie as I loved so while the harsh words +burned upon me tongue--my little Maggie! I was bitter cruel to my little +girl, but you've been kind to me, and, sorr, I thank ye. But," continued +the dying man, slowly and feebly, "it aren't to thank yez as I wanted +ye--but to give yez something in trust for Miss Hermy--ye see, sorr, I +shant be here when she comes back to-night, I'll be with--little Maggie +when the hour strikes--my little Maggie! Norah, wife--give it to him." + +Silently Mrs. Finlay opened a drawer, and turning, placed in Ravenslee's +hand a heavy gold ring curiously wrought into the form of two hands +clasping each other. + +"It was my Maggie's," continued Martin, "an' I guess she valleyed +it a whole lot, sorr. I found it hid away with odds and ends as she +treasured. But she don't want it no more--she's dead, ye see, sorr--I +killed her--drowned, sorr--I drowned her. Cruel an' hard I was--shut her +out onto the streets, I did, and so--she died. But before the river +took--oh, Blessed Mary--oh, Mother O' God--pity! Before she went t' +heaven, Miss Hermy was good t' her; Miss Hermy loved her and tried t' +comfort her--but only God could do that, I reckon--so she went t' God. +But Miss Hermy was kind when I wasn't, so, sorr, it's give her that ring +ye will, plaze, an' say as poor Martin died blessing her. An' now it's +go I'll ask ye, sorr, for God's callin' me to wipe away me tears an' +sorrers and bind up me broken heart--so lave me to God and--my little +Maggie--" + +Very softly Ravenslee followed Mrs. Trapes out of the room, but they had +not reached the front door when they heard a glad cry and thereafter a +woman's sudden desolate sobbing. + +"Go on, Mr. Geoffrey," whispered Mrs. Trapes. "But I guess I'd better +stay here a bit." + +"You mean--?" + +"As poor Martin's sure found his little girl again!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HOW SPIKE MADE A CHOICE AND A PROMISE + + +Monday morning found Ravenslee knocking at the opposite door, which +opening, disclosed Spike, but a very chastened and humble Spike, who +blushed and drooped his head and shuffled with his feet and finally +stammered: + +"Hello, Geoff--I--I'm all alone, but you--you can come in if--if you +care to?" + +"I dropped in on my way down just to have a word with you, Spike." + +With dragging feet Spike led the way into the sitting room, where lay +his breakfast, scarcely tasted. + +"Sit down, Geoff, I--I want to apologise," said the lad, toying +nervously with his teaspoon. "I guess you think I'm a mean, low-down +sort o' guy, an' you're right, only I--I feel worse 'n you think. An' +say, Geoff, if I--if I said anything th' other night, I want you +to--forget it, will you?" + +"Why, of course, Spike." + +"Hermy's forgiven me. I--I've promised to work hard an' do what she +wants." + +"I'm glad of that, Spike!" + +"She came creepin' into my room this mornin' before she went, but--me +thinkin' she meant to give me a last call down--I pretended t' be +asleep, so she just sighed an' went creepin' out again an' wrote me +this," and Spike drew a sheet of crumpled note paper from his pocket and +handed it to Ravenslee, who read these words: + +Boy dear, I love you so much that if you destroyed my love, I +think you would destroy me too. Now I must leave you to go to my work, +but you will go to yours, won't you--for my sake and for your sake and +because I love you so. Be good and strong and clean, and if you want some +one to help you, go to your friend, Mr. Geoffrey. Good-by, dear--and +remember your promise. + +Ravenslee passed back the pencilled scrawl and Spike, bending his head +low, read it through again. + +"I guess I've just got t' be good," he murmured, "for her sake. Oh, +Geoff," he cried suddenly, "I'd die for her!" + +"Better live for her, Spike, and be the honourable, clean man she +wishes." + +"She sure thinks you're some man, Geoff! I guess she's--kind o'--fond of +you." + +"That's what I've come to talk about, Spike." + +"Are you--fond of her, Geoff?" + +"Fond!" exclaimed Ravenslee, forgetting to drawl, "I'm so fond--I love +her so much--I honour her so deeply that I want her for my wife." + +"Wife?" exclaimed Spike, starting to his feet, his eyes suddenly +radiant, "d'ye mean you'll marry her?" + +"If she will honour me so far, Spike." + +"Marry her! You'll marry her!" Spike repeated. + +"As soon as she'll let me!" + +"Geoff--oh, Geoff," exclaimed the boy, and choking, turned away. + +"Won't you congratulate me?" + +"I can't yet," gasped Spike; "I can't till I've told ye what a mean guy +I've been." + +"What about?" + +"About you--and Hermy. Bud said you meant t' make her go the way--little +Maggie Finlay went, an'--oh, Geoff, I--I kind of believed him." + +"Did you, Spike--that foul beast? But you don't believe it any longer, +and M'Ginnis is--only M'Ginnis, after all." + +"But I--I've got to tell you more," said the lad miserably, as meeting +Ravenslee's eye with an effort, he went on feverishly. "The other night +after--after Bud slipped me the--the stuff an' I'd had a--a drink or +two, he began askin' all about you. At first I blocked and side-stepped +all his questions, but he kep' on at me, an' at last I--I give you away, +Geoff--" Here Spike paused breathlessly and cast an apprehensive glance +toward his hearer, but finding him silent and serene as ever he +repeated: + +"I--gave you away, Geoff!" + +"Did you, Spike?" + +"Yes, I--I told him who you really are!" + +"Did you, Spike?" + +"Yes! Yes! Oh, Geoff, don't you understand?" + +"I understand." + +"Well, why don't ye say something? Why don't ye tell me what I am? Say +I'm a dirty sneak--call me a yeller cur--anything!" + +"No, you were drunk, that's all; and when the drink is in, honour, and +all that makes a man, is out--you were only drunk." + +"Oh, but I wasn't s' drunk as all that," gasped Spike, cowering in +his chair, "but he kep' on comin' at me with his questions, an' at +last--when I told him how I met up with you--he kind o' give a jump--an' +his face--" Spike clenched his fists and, slowly raising them, pressed +them upon his eyes. "I'll never forget th' look on--his face! So now you +know as I've blown th' game on ye--given ye away--you as was my friend!" +With the word Spike sobbed and fell grovelling on his knees. "Curse me, +Geoff!" he cried. "Oh, curse me, an' tell me what I am!" + +"You are Hermione's brother!" + +"My God!" wailed the boy. "If she knew, she'd hate me." + +"I--almost think she would, Spike." + +"You won't tell her, Geoff, you won't never let her know?" + +"I--don't get drunk, Spike." + +"But you won't tell her?" he pleaded, reaching out desperate hands, +"you won't?" + +"Not a word, Spike!" + +"Oh, I know I'm--rotten!" sobbed the lad. "I know you ain't got no use +for me any more, but I'm sorry, Geoff, I'm real sorry. I know a guy +can't forgive a guy as gives a guy away if that guy's a guy's friend. I +know as you can't forgive me. I know as you'll cut me out for good after +this. But I want ye t' know as I'm sorry, Geoff--awful sorry--I--I ain't +fit t' be anybody's friend, I guess." + +"I think you need a friend more than ever, Spike!" + +"Geoff!" cried the boy breathlessly. "Say--what d' you mean?" + +"I mean the time has come for you to choose between M'Ginnis and me. If +I am to be your friend, M'Ginnis must be your enemy from now on--wait! +If you want my friendship, no more secrets; tell me just how M'Ginnis +got you into his power--how he got you to break into my house." + +Spike glanced up through his tears, glanced down, choked upon a sob, and +burst into breathless narrative. + +"There was me an' Bud an' a guy they call Heine--we'd been to a rube +boxin' match up th' river. An' as we come along, Heine says: 'If I was +in th' second-story-lay there's millionaire Ravenslee's wigwam waitin' +t' be cracked,' an' he pointed out your swell place among th' trees in +th' moonlight. Then Bud says: 'You ain't got th' nerve, Heine. Why, th' +Kid's got more nerve than you,' he says, pattin' my shoulder. An' Heine +laughs an' says I'm only a kid. An' Geoff, I'd got two or three drinks +into me an' th' end was I agreed t' just show 'em as I had nerve enough +t' get in through a winder an' cop something--anything I could get. So +Bud hands me his 'lectric torch, an' we skin over th' fence an' up to +th' house--an' Heine has th' winder open in a jiffy, an' me--bein' +half-soused an' foolish--hikes inter th' room, an' you cops me on th' +jump an'--an' that's all!" + +"And M'Ginnis has threatened to send you up for it now and then, eh?" + +"Only for a joke. Bud ain't like me; he'd never split on a pal--Bud +wouldn't gimme away--" + +"Anyway, Spike, it's him or me. Which will you have for a friend?" + +"Oh, Geoff, I--I guess I'd follow you t' Kingdom Come if you'd let me. +I do want t' live straight an' clean--honest t' God I do, Geoff, an' if +you'll only forgive--" + +Spike's outstretched, pleading hands were caught and held, and he was +lifted to his feet. + +"My Arthur-Spike, art going to the office this morning?" + +"Sure I am; my eye ain't--ain't s' bad, after all, is it? Anyway, I feel +more like what a man should feel like now, an'--Gee! look at me doin' +the sissy tear-spoutin' act! Oh, hell--lemme go an' wash me face. 'N' +say, if--if any o' them--I mean those dolly office boys has anything t' +say, I'll punch th' sawdust out o' them!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +WHICH MAKES FURTHER MENTION OF A RING + + +Ravenslee, strolling in leisurely fashion along Tenth Avenue, became +aware of a slender, pallid youth whose old-young face was familiar; a +cigarette dangled from his pale, thin lips, and his slender hands were +hidden in the pockets of his smartly tailored coat. On went Ravenslee, +pausing now and then to glance idly into some shop window until, +chancing to slip his fingers into a waistcoat pocket, he paused all at +once and, drawing thence a ring wrought into the semblance of two +clasped hands, drew it upon his finger. Now as he glanced at the ring, +his eye gleamed and, smiling as one who has a sudden bright idea, he set +off faster than before, striding on light and purposeful feet. But, as +he turned a corner, he noticed that the pallid youth was still close +behind, wherefore he halted before a shop window where, among other +articles of diet, were cans of tomatoes neatly piled into a pyramid. At +these he stared, waiting, and presently found the pallid youth at his +elbow, who also stared upon the tomato pyramid with half-closed eyes and +with smouldering cigarette pendent from thin-lipped mouth. And after +they had stared awhile in silence, cheek by jowl, Ravenslee spoke in his +pleasant, lazy voice: + +"Judging by the labels these tomatoes are everything tomatoes possibly +could be." + +"'S right!" murmured the pale one imperturbably. + +"Fond of tomatoes?" enquired Ravenslee. + +"Aw!" answered his neighbour, "quit foolin'--talk sense!" + +"Certainly! Why do you follow me, Soapy?" + +Soapy's eyes grew narrower, and the pendent cigarette stirred slightly. + +"Know me, hey?" he enquired. + +"Heaven forbid! 'T was a bolt at a venture--a shot in the dark." + +"Talkin'--o'--shootin'," said Soapy, grimly deliberate, "peanuts ain't a +healthy profesh around here--not fer your kind, it ain't!" + +"Oh, I don't know," answered Ravenslee, shaking his head gently at the +tomatoes, "I've heard of professions even more unhealthy." + +"Aw--well--say what?" + +"Well, talking of shooting--yours!" + +Soapy's narrow eyes gleamed with an added viciousness, his pale nostrils +expanded, but the retort died upon his curling mouth, his puffy eyelids +widened and widened as he stared at the ring on Ravenslee's finger, and +when he spoke his voice was strangely hoarse and eager. + +"Say, sport--where'd you--get that--ring?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +"'Cause I want to know, I guess." + +"Think you've seen it before?" + +"Sport, I don't think--I know. I seen it many a time. I'd know it in a +million, sure." + +"Where did you see it before?" + +"On M'Ginnis's mitt. It useter belong t' Bud." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Ravenslee, scowling down at the ring, "you make me wish +more than ever that I had throttled him a little harder." + +"Where'd you get that ring, sport?" Soapy repeated. + +"From Maggie Finlay's father!" + +Soapy turned away to stare at the tomato cans again. + +"Meanin'?" he enquired at last, hoarser than before. + +"That once upon a time it belonged to--her." + +"Sport," said Soapy after an interval, still staring at the pyramid of +cans, "I useter know her once, an' I've jest nacherally took a fancy t' +that ring; if fifty dollars'll buy it, they're yours--right now." + +"It isn't mine," answered Ravenslee, still scowling at the ring which +he had drawn from his finger. "I'm on my way to take it to--its owner. +But if that person doesn't want it, and I'm pretty sure--that +person--won't, you shall have it, I promise you. And now," said he, +pocketing the ring and turning, still scowling, on Soapy, "you are one +of M'Ginnis's gang, I fancy; anyway, if you see him you can tell him +from me that if he gives me another chance I'll surely kill him for the +foul beast he is." + +"Sport," said Soapy, "I guess the Spider's right about you--anyway, you +ain't my meat. An' as fer killin' Bud--you sure ain't goin' t' get th' +chance--not while I have the say-so. S' long, sport!" and turning upon +his heel, Soapy lounged away. + +At Times Square Ravenslee entered the subway and, buying his ticket, was +jostled by a boy, a freckled boy, round-headed and round of nose, who +stared at him with a pair of round, impertinent eyes. + +Lost in happy speculation he was duly borne to One Hundred and Thirtieth +Street, where he boarded the ferry. Upon the boat he was again conscious +of a round head that bobbed here and there amid the throng of +passengers, but paid small heed as he leaned to watch the broad and +noble river and the green New Jersey shore. At Fort Lee, exchanging boat +for trolley car, he was once more vaguely conscious of two round eyes +that watched him from a rear seat; but as the powerful car whirled them +up-hill, plunged them down steep inclines, swung them around sharp +curves, through shady woods, past far-flung boughs whose leaves stirred +and whispered as the great car fleeted by, he fell again to dreaming of +Hermione and the future; and so reached Englewood, a small township +dreaming in the fierce midday sunshine. Here he enquired of a perspiring +butcher in shirtsleeves the whereabouts of the house he wanted and, +being fully directed and carefully admonished how to get there, set off +along the road. And remembering that her feet must often have traversed +this very path, he straightway fell to his dreaming again. Thus how +should he know anything of the round head that bobbed out from behind +bush or tree ere it followed whither he went? So Ravenslee came where +the road led between tall trees--to smooth green lawns beyond which was +the gleam of water and so at last to the house he sought. + +Now beside this house, separated by a wide stretch of lawn, was a small +wood and, lured by its grateful shade, he turned aside into this wood +and began pushing his way through the dense undergrowth, which presently +thinned to form a small clearing, roofed and shut in by leaves and full +of a tender green light. Here he paused, and espying a fallen tree hard +by, sat himself down and began to fill his pipe. And now, remembering +his shabby person, he felt disinclined to go up to the house and demand +to see Miss Chesterton. Yet see her he would--but how? He was frowning +over this problem when it was resolved for him quite unexpectedly; +roused by the sound of a snapping twig, he glanced up--and Hermione was +before him. She was coming down a narrow path that wound amid the +leaves, and because she wore no hat, the sunlight, filtering through the +branches, made a glory of her hair as she passed. Her head was bowed, +and she walked very slowly as one in thought; she had brought sewing +with her, but for once her busy hands were idle, and, as he looked upon +her beauty, scarce breathing, he saw again that look of wistful sadness. + +As he rose, she glanced up, and seeing him, stood utterly still. Thus +for a long moment they gazed upon each other, then, even as he hastened +to her, she came to him on swift, light feet, and, flushing, tremulous, +quick-breathing, gave herself into his arms. + +"Oh, Hermione, my beloved!" he murmured, his voice tense and eager, +"didn't I say enough, last time? Don't you know I love you--worship +you--hunger and yearn for you? I want you with every breath I draw. +When will you be my wife--oh, when will you marry me, Hermione?" + +For answer she reached up her arms, sudden, passionate arms that clung +about him close and strong; so they stood thus, heart beating to heart, +thrilling at each other's nearness yet drawing ever closer until, +lifting her head, she gave her lips to his. + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," she whispered, "is it right to love you so, +I wonder? I never thought it could be--like this. It frightens me +sometimes, because my love is so great and strong and I--so powerless. +Is it right? I--Oh!" she broke off breathlessly, "how can I speak if--if +you--" + +"Kiss you so much?" he ended, "you can't speak, so--don't speak, my +Hermione!" But now, all at once, he started and glanced up among the +leaves above them. + +"Dear," she whispered, "what is it?" + +"That tapping sound," he answered, still gazing upward. + +"It's only the woodpecker." + +"Why, of course!" he laughed. "It's strange, but I dreamed a scene like +this--yes, the great tree yonder, and you in my arms--though it seemed +so impossible then, and--" + +But uttering a sudden, low cry of alarm, Hermione broke from his clasp +and fled from him along the leafy path while he stared after her, lost +in amazement; then he ran also and caught her upon the edge of the +little wood. + +"What frightened you, Hermione--who was it?" + +"I--I thought I saw some one crouching behind a bush--watching us!" + +"Not--M'Ginnis?" he demanded, fierce-eyed. + +"No--no, I'm sure it wasn't!" + +"I'll go and look," said Ravenslee, clenching his fists. But now, as he +turned away, two round arms were about him again, soft and compelling, +and she was looking up at him, all shy-eyed, passionate tenderness; and +before the revelation in that look, he forgot all else in the world. + +"Hermione--when will you marry me?" + +Now, softened by distance, there floated to them the mellow booming of +a gong. + +"That means I must go!" she sighed. + +"Hermione--when will you marry me?" + +"Good-by--good-by--I must run!" + +But his long arms only clasped her the closer. + +"Hermione, when will you be my wife?" + +"Oh, please, please let me go; if I'm late--" + +"When, Hermione?" + +"When I--come home, if--you really--want me--Oh, now my hair's all +coming down, I know. Good-by!" + +Reluctantly he loosed her and stood to watch until, reaching the +verandah of the house, she paused to glance back to where he stood among +the leaves ere she vanished between the screen doors. Then Ravenslee +turned, and remembering her sudden fright, looked sharply about him, +even pausing, now and then, to peer behind bush and thicket; but this +time he did not think to glance upward, and thus failed to see the round +eyes that watched him from amid the leaves of the great tree. + +So he came again to the dusty highway and strode along, throbbing with +life and the lust of life, revelling in the glory of earth and sky and +quite unconscious of the small, furtive figure that flitted after him +far behind. + +And it was not until he sat in the ferryboat that he remembered he had +forgotten to give her the ring, after all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +MRS. TRAPES UPON THE MILLENNIUM + + +Mulligan's was in a ferment. Bare-armed women talked in every doorway; +they talked from open windows, they talked leaning over banisters, they +congregated on landings and in passageways--but everywhere they talked; +while men and youths newly returned from work, lunch-can and basket in +hand, listened in wide-eyed astonishment, shook incredulous heads, +puffed thoughtfully at pipes or cigarettes, and questioned in guttural +wonderment. + +But Ravenslee, lost in his own happy thoughts, sped up the stairs all +unheeding, abstractedly returning such neighbourly salutes as he +happened to notice; reaching his lofty habitation in due course he let +himself in, and was in the act of filling his pipe when Mrs. Trapes +appeared. In one hand she grasped a meat skewer and in the other an open +testament, and it was to be noted that her bright eyes, usually so keen +and steady, roved here and there, from pink rug to green and yellow +tablecloth, thence to the parrot-owl, and at last to her lodger. Finally +she spoke. + +"Mr. Geoffrey, are ye saved?" she demanded in awe-struck tones. + +"Why, really, Mrs. Trapes, I--" + +"Because, Mr. Geoffrey, this day it behooveth us all t' think of our +souls an' th' hereafter, I reckon." + +"Souls?" said Ravenslee, staring in his turn. + +"Fire," she continued, shaking portentous head, "fire I'm prepared for; +a earthquake I could endoor; battle, murder, and sudden death I could +abide; poverty is me lot, Mr. Geoffrey, an' hardship is me portion, an' +for all sich am I dooly prepared, sich things bein' nacheral; but fer +this--well, there!" + +"What is the matter, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Matter, Mr. Geoffrey? Well, the millenyum's at hand, that's all--the +lion is about t' lay down with th' lamb, tigers has lost their taste fer +blood, an' snakes an' serpints has shed their vennymous fangs! Mr. +Geoffrey--the day is at hand--beware!" + +"What in the world--" began Ravenslee, but Mrs. Trapes stayed him with +uplifted skewer, and drew from the mysterious recesses of her apron a +folded circular which she proceeded to spread open and from which she +read in a hollow voice as follows: + +NOTICE AUGUST 1, 1910. + +On and after the above date, all tenants soever residing within the +tenement house known as Mulligan's are warned that all rents will be +reduced by fifty per cent. + +BY ORDER. + +"Now what," said Mrs. Trapes, refolding the circular very reverently and +shutting it into the testament, "jest what d'ye think o' that?" + +"Quite a--er--remarkable document, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Remarkable?" snorted Mrs. Trapes. + +"Yes," said Ravenslee, beginning to fill his pipe, "extraordinary, most +extraordinary--er--very much so--" + +"Extraordinary? Mr. Geoffrey, is that all you got t' say about it?" And +Mrs. Trapes sniffed loudly. + +"Well, what more should I say?" + +"Why, ain't it th' wonder o' th' whole round world? Ain't it th' +merrycle of all time?" + +"Certainly! Not a doubt of it!" he agreed. "By the way, what do you +happen to have for supper? You see I've been--" + +"Supper?" + +"I'm quite hungry--I'm always hungry lately and--" + +"Hungry!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, rolling her eyes, "here I tell him +of wonders an' omens beyond pore huming understanding an'--he's hungry! +Lord, ain't that jest like a man! A man's soul, if a man has a soul, +lays in his stummick. Hungry! But you shall be fed--prompt, Mr. +Geoffrey. How'll b'iled salmon an' peas soot?" + +"Splendidly! And I think--" + +"'On and after,'" said Mrs. Trapes, slowly and dreamily, "'on and after +the above date, all tenants soever residin'--I've learned it by heart, +Mr. Geoffrey. Then it goes on to say, 'within the tennyment house known +as Mulligan's are warned'--hum! I wonder why 'warned'?--'are warned that +all rents will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!' Fifty per cent!" she +repeated in a dreamy rapture, "which is jest half, y' see. An', Mr. +Geoffrey, that's jest what's got me plumb scared--it's all so +unnacheral. I've heard o' rents bein' rose--constant, but who ever +heard of 'em bein' took down before? Well, well! My land! Well, well!" + +With which remark Mrs. Trapes went about her household duties, leaving +Ravenslee to lounge and smoke and dream blissfully of Hermione. + +"Y' see," said Mrs. Trapes, wandering in with a plate, "it'll make +things s' much easier for all of us; we shall begin t' feel almost +rich--some of us. 'Are warned that all rents will be re-dooced by fifty +per cent.' Well, well!" and she wandered out again. + +But presently she was back once more, this time with the tablecloth, +which she proceeded to spread, though still lost in dreamy abstraction. + +"At first I couldn't an' I wouldn't believe it, Mr. Geoffrey--no, sir!" +she continued in the same rapt voice. "But every one's got a notice same +as mine, so I guess it must be true--don't ye think?" + +"Not a doubt of it!" answered Ravenslee. + +"But th' burnin' question as I asks myself is--who? It's signed 'By +Order', y' see, well--whose? One sure thing, it ain't Mulligan." + +"But he owns the place, doesn't he?" + +"He did, Mr. Geoffrey, an' that's what worries me--continual. What I +demands is--who now?" + +"Echo, Mrs. Trapes, methinks doth answer 'Who?' By the way, it +was--er--salmon and green peas I think you--" + +"My land, that bit o' salmon'll bile itself t' rags!" and incontinent +she vanished. + +However, in due time Ravenslee sat down to as tasty a supper as might be +and did ample justice to it, while Mrs. Trapes once more read aloud for +his edification from the wondrous circular, and was again propounding +the vexed and burning question of "who" when she was interrupted by a +knocking without, and going to the door, presently returned with little +Mrs. Bowker, in whose tired eyes shone an unusual light, and whose faded +voice held a strange note of gladness. + +"Good evenin', Mr. Geoffrey!" said she, bobbing him a curtsey as he rose +to greet her, "my Hazel sends you her love an' a kiss for them last +candies--an' thank ye for all th' medicine--but oh, Mr. Geoffrey, an' +you, Ann Trapes, you'll never guess what's brought me. I've come t' wish +ye good-by, we're--oh, Ann, we're goin' at last!" + +"Goin'!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clutching at her elbows, "y' never mean +as you're leavin' Mulligan's now the rent's been took down--re-dooced +fifty per cent.--by order?" + +"That's just what I'm tellin' ye--oh, Ann, ain't it just--heavenly!" + +"Heavenly!" repeated Mrs. Trapes, and sank into a chair. + +"Yes, heavenly t' see th' trees an' flowers again--t' live among them, +Ann." + +"Samanthy Bowker--what do you mean?" + +"Why, Ann, my Tom's had a gardener's job offered him at a gentleman's +mansion in the country. Tom went after it t'day--an' got it. Fifteen +dollars a week an' a cottage--free, Ann! Hazel's just crazy with +joy--an' so'm I!" + +Mrs. Trapes fanned herself feebly with her apron. + +"All I can say is," said she faintly, "if the world don't come to an end +soon--I shall. A gardener's job! A cottage in th' country! Why, that's +what you've been hungerin' for, you an' Bowker, ever since I've known +ye. And to-day--it's come! An' to-day the rent's re-dooced itself fifty +per cent. by order--oh, dear land o' my fathers! When d' ye go?" + +"T'morrow mornin', Ann. Hazel'll sure grow a strong, well girl in th' +country--doctor said so last week--you heard him, Mr. Geoffrey, didn't +you?" + +"I did, Mrs. Bowker." + +"And my Tom's that excited he couldn't eat no supper--oh, an' have ye +seen in t'night's paper, Ann, about Mulligan's?" + +"No--what now?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, as though on the verge of +collapsing. + +"Well, read that--right there!" and unfolding an evening paper, Mrs. +Bowker pointed to a paragraph tucked away into a corner, and, drawing a +deep breath, Mrs. Trapes read aloud as follows: + +It is understood that Geoffrey Ravenslee, the well-known sportsman and +millionaire, winner of last year's International Automobile race and +holder of the world's long-distance speed record, has lately paid a +record price in a real estate deal. A certain tenement building off Tenth +Avenue has been purchased by him, the cost of which, it is rumoured, was +fabulous. + +"Fab'lous!" repeated Mrs. Trapes, and sniffed. "Well, I never had +no use fer millionaires, anyway--they're generally fools or rogues--this +one's a fool sure--any one is as would give much fer a place like +Mulligan's--an' yet, come t' think of it again--'are warned as all rents +will be re-dooced fifty per cent. by order'--yes, come t' think of it +again, what I say is--God bless this millionaire, an' whatever he is, +Ann Angelina Trapes is sure goin' t' mention him before th' Throne this +night." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +WHICH SHOULD HAVE RELATED DETAILS OF A WEDDING + + +"It's all very, very wonderful, Ann, dear! But then--everything is so +wonderful--just lately!" + +"Meanin' what, Hermy?" + +Hermione was darning one of Spike's much-mended socks, while Mrs. Trapes +sat drinking tea. "Meanin' jest what is wonderful, my dear, and--since +when?" she persisted. + +"Oh--everything, Ann!" + +"Yes, you said everything before. S'pose you tell me jest the one thing +as you find so wonderful? An'--why an' wherefore that blush?" + +"Oh, Ann--Ann, dear!" Down went sock and needle and, falling on her +knees, Hermione clasped her arms about Mrs. Trapes and hid her glowing +face in her lap. "Ann, dear, I'm so happy!" she sighed--her speech a +little muffled by reason of the voluminous folds of Mrs. Trapes's snowy +apron. + +"Happy?" said Mrs. Trapes, setting down her teacup to fondle and stroke +that shapely head, "sich happiness ain't all because of the rent bein' +re-dooced, by order, I reckon--is it?" + +"Dear Ann," said Hermione, her face still hidden, "can't you guess?" + +"No, my dear," answered Mrs. Trapes, her harsh tones wonderfully soft, +"I don't have to--I guessed days ago. D' ye love him, Hermy?" + +"Love him!" repeated Hermione, and said no more, nor did she lift her +bowed head, but feeling the quick, strong pressure of those soft, +embracing arms, the quiver of that girlish body, Mrs. Trapes smiled, +and stooping, kissed Hermione's shining hair. + +"When did he speak, my dear?" + +"Last Monday, Ann." + +"Did he say--much?" + +"He asked me to--marry him." + +"Spoke of marriage, eh? Did he happen t' mention th' word--wife?" + +"Oh, many times, Ann." + +"Good f'r him! An' when's it t' be?" + +"Oh, Ann, dear, I--I'm afraid it's--to-night!" + +"T'night? My land, he's sure some hasty!" + +"And so--so masterful, Ann!" + +"Well, y' sure need a master. But t'night--land sakes!" + +"He wrote and told me he would fix things so he could marry me to-night, +Ann!" + +"Then he's sure out fixin' 'em right now. Lord, Hermy, why d' ye +tremble, girl--y' sure love him, don't ye?" + +"So much, Ann, so very much--and yet--" + +"You ain't scared of him, are ye?" + +"No--and yet, I--I think I am--a little." + +"But you'll marry him, all the same?" + +"Yes." + +"An' t'night?" + +"Yes. But Ann, dear, when he comes in I want you to keep him with you as +long as you can--will you?" + +"Why, sure I'll keep him, jest as long as--he'll let me! Lord, t' think +as my little Hermy'll be a married woman this night!" + +"And--oh, Ann, I haven't any--trousseau--" + +"Shucks! You don't need none. You're best as you are. You won't need no +fluffs an' frills, I reckon." + +"But, Ann dear," said Hermione, lifting her head and shaking it +ruefully, "I have--nothing! And my best dress--I made it in such a +hurry, you remember--it needs pressing and--" + +"He ain't marryin' you fer your clo'es, Hermy--no, sir! It's you he +wants an'--oh, shucks! What do clo'es matter t' you, anyway? You was +meant to be one o' them nymphs an' goddesses as went about clad--well, +airy. You'd ha' done fine with them soft arms an' shoulders an'--" + +"But I'm not a goddess, Ann, I'm only poor Hermy Chesterton--with a +hole in one stocking and the lace on her petticoat torn, and her other +things--well, look here!" and up whirled gown and petticoat, "see what a +state they're in--look, Ann!" + +"My dear, I am!" nodded Mrs. Trapes over her teacup, "an' what I say is, +it don't matter a row o' pins if a stockin' 's got a bit of a hole in it +if that stockin' 's on sich a leg as that! An' as fer--" + +"But," sighed Hermione, "don't you understand--" + +"My dear, I do! I was a married woman once, mind. An' I tell you 'beauty +doth lie in the eye o' the beholder', my dear, an' the two eyes as is +a-goin' t' behold you this night is goin' t' behold so much beauty as +they won't behold nothin' else." + +"But--he loves dainty things, I'm sure." + +"Well, ain't he gettin' a dainty thing? Ain't he gettin' th' daintiest, +sweetest, loveliest--" Here Mrs. Trapes set down her cup again to clasp +Hermione in her arms. + +"Do you think he'll--understand, Ann?" + +"He'll be a fool if he doesn't!" + +"And make allowances? He knows how poor we are and how busy I have to +be." + +"He does so, my dear. But, if it's goin' t' comfort you any, there's +that corset cover you made me last Christmas. I ain't never wore it; +I ain't dared to with all them trimmin's an' lace insertion, an' me s' +bony here an' there. You can have it an' willin', my dear, an' then +there's them--" + +"Ann, you dear thing, as if I would!" + +"Why not? That corset cover's a dream! An' then there's them--" + +"Dear, I couldn't--I wouldn't! No, I'll go to him just as I am--he +shall marry me just like I am--" + +"An' that's a goddess!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "yes, a young goddess--only, +with more clo'es on, o' course. I'm glad as he's quit peanuts; peanut +men don't kind o' jibe in with goddesses." + +"Ann," said Hermione, sitting back on her heels, "I think of him a great +deal, of course, and--just lately--I've begun to wonder--" + +"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, blowing her tea, "so do I! I been wonderin' +ever since he walked into my flat, cool as I don't know what, an', my +dear, when I sets me mind t' wonderment, conclusions arrive--constant! +I'll tell ye what I think. First, he ain't s' poor as he seems--he wears +silk socks, my dear. Second, he's been nurtured tender--he cleans them +white teeth night an' morn. Third, he ain't done no toil-an'-spinnin' +act--take heed t' his hands, my dear. He's soft-spoke but he's +masterful. He's young, but he's seen a lot. He ain't easy t' rile, but +when he is--my land! He don't say a lot, an' he don't seem t' do much, +an' yet--he don't seem t' starve none. Result--he may be anything!" + +"Anything? Ann, dear!" + +"Anything!" repeated Mrs. Trapes. "An' havin' studied him good an' +heeded him careful, I now conclood he's jest the thing you need, my +dear." + +"Then you like him, Ann--you trust him?" + +"I sure do." + +"Oh, you dear--dear--dear thing!" And once again Mrs. Trapes was clasped +in those vigorous young arms and kissed with every "dear." + +"Though, mind you," said Mrs. Trapes, pushing cup and saucer out of +harm's way, "though, mind you, he's a mystery I ain't found out--yet. D' +ye s'pose he made any money out o' them blessed peanuts--not him! Mrs. +Smalley, as lives down along 'Leventh, she told me as she's seen him +givin' 'em away by the bagful t' all the children down her +way--repeated!" + +"How sweet of him!" said Hermione, her red mouth all tender curves. + +"Yes, but how did he live? How does he? How will he?" + +"I don't know, dear; I only know I would trust him always--always!" And +sitting back, chin in hand, Hermione fell again to happy thought. + +"When he give up the nuts," pursued Mrs. Trapes, draining the teapot and +sighing, "he tells me some fool tale of makin' a deal in real estate, +an' I--ha, real estate!" Mrs. Trapes put down the teapot with a jerk. +"A deal in real estate!" she repeated, and thereafter fell to such +unintelligible mutterings as "Record price! Fab'lous! No, it couldn't +be! An' yet--silk socks! 'On an' after above date all tenants soever +residin'--will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!'" Suddenly Mrs. Trapes +sat bolt upright. "My land!" she ejaculated, "oh, dear land o' my +fathers--if sech could be!" + +"Why, Ann," exclaimed Hermione, roused from her reverie, "whatever is +the matter?" + +"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, laying gentle hand on Hermione's blooming +cheek, "nothin'--nothin' 't all! I'm jest goin' over in my mind sich +small matters as silk socks an' toothbrushes, that's all." + +"But you do mean something--you always do." + +"Well--if I do this time, my dear, I'm crazy--but the Bowkers have gone, +mind that! An' him s' fond o' little Hazel!" Here Mrs. Trapes nodded +almost triumphantly. + +"The Bowkers? Why, yes--I've been wondering--" + +"I guess you know he went t' O'Rourke's an' give that M'Ginnis the +thrashin' of his dirty life?" said Mrs. Trapes rather hastily. "Nigh +killed the loafer, Spider Connolly told me." + +"He's so strong," said Hermione softly, her eyes shining. "But, Ann, +what did you mean about--about toothbrushes and socks?" + +"Mean? Why, socks an' toothbrushes, o' course. An' my land! here's me +guzzlin' tea, an' over in my kitchen th' finest shin o' beef you ever +saw a-b'ilin' f'r his supper. But now the question as burns is, if a +married man this night, will he be here t' eat? An' if him--then you? +An' if man an' wife suppin' in my parlour--where will ye sleep?" + +"I--oh, Ann--I don't know. His letter just said that when I came home it +would be our--wedding night!" + +"Why, then it sure will be. An' f'r a weddin' supper, y' couldn't have +nothin' better 'n shin o' beef. I'll go an' watch over that stoo with +care unfailin', my dear; believe me, that stoo's goin' t' be a stoo as +is a stoo! What, half after five? Land sakes, how time flies!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +IN WHICH HERMIONE MAKES A FATEFUL DECISION + + +When Mrs. Trapes was gone, Hermione stood a long time to look at herself +in her little mirror, viewing and examining each feature of her lovely, +intent face more earnestly than she had ever done before; and sometimes +she smiled, and sometimes she frowned, and all her thought was: + +"Shall I make him happy, I wonder? Can I be all he wants--all he thinks +I am?" + +So, after some while, she combed and brushed out her glorious hair, +shyly glad because of its length and splendour; and, having crowned her +shapely head with it, viewed the effect with cold, hypercritical eyes. + +"Can I, oh, can I ever be all he wants--all he thinks I am?" + +And then she proceeded to dress; the holey stockings were replaced by +others that had seen less service; the worn frills and laces were +changed for others less threadbare. This done, Hermione, with many +supple twists, wriggled dexterously into her best dress, pausing now and +then to sigh mournfully and grieve over its many deficiencies and +shortcomings, defects which only feminine eyes, so coldly critical, +might hope to behold. + +Scarcely was all this accomplished when she heard a soft knock at the +outer door, and at the sound her heart leapt; she flushed and paled and +stood a moment striving to stay the quick, heavy throbbing within her +bosom; then breathlessly she hastened along the passage and, opening the +door with trembling hands, beheld Bud M'Ginnis. While she stared, dumb +and amazed, he entered and, closing the door, leaned his broad back +against it. + +"Goin' away, Hermy?" he enquired softly, looking her over with his slow +gaze. + +"Yes." + +"Goin' far, Hermy?" + +"I don't know." + +"Goin'--alone, Hermy?" + +"Why are you here? What do you want?" + +"T' save ye from--hell!" he answered, his voice rising loud and harsh on +the last word. "Oh, I know," he went on fiercely, "I know why you're all +dolled up in your best. I know as you mean t' go away to-night with--him. +But you ain't goin', girl--you ain't." + +"To-night," she said gently, "is my wedding night." + +M'Ginnis lifted a hand and wrenched at the silken neckerchief he wore as +though it choked him. + +"No!" he cried, "you ain't a-goin' t' get no wedding, Hermy; he don't +mean t' give ye a square deal. He's foolin' ye--foolin' ye, girl! Oh," +said he through shut teeth, "ye thought I was safe out o' the way, I +guess. You ought t' known better; th' p'lice couldn't hold me, they +never will. Anyway, I've kept tabs on ye--I know as you've been meeting +him--in a wood! I know," here M'Ginnis seemed to choke again, "I know of +you an' him--kissin' an' cuddlin'--oh, I've kept tabs on ye--" + +"Yes," she said gently, "I saw your spy at work." + +"But y' can't deny it. Y' don't deny it! Say, what kind o' girl are +you?" + +"The kind that doesn't fear men like you." + +"But y' can't deny meetin' him," he repeated, his hoarse voice +quivering; "you don't deny--kissin' him--in a wood! Only deny it, Hermy, +only say you didn't, an' I'll choke th' life out of any guy as says you +did--only deny it, Hermy." + +"But I don't want to deny it. If your spy had ears he can tell you that +we are going to be married. Now go." + +Once more M'Ginnis reached up to his throat and trenched off the +neckerchief altogether. + +"Married!" he cried, "an' t' him! He's foolin' ye, Hermy, by God he is! +Girl, I'm tellin' ye straight an' true--he'll never marry ye. His kind +don't marry Tenth Av'ner girls--Nooport an' Fifth Av'ner's a good ways +from Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't ever come t'gether, +I reckon." + +"Ah!" sighed she, falling back a step, "what do you mean?" + +"Why, I mean," said M'Ginnis, twisting the neckerchief in his powerful +hands much as if it had been the neck of some enemy, "I mean as this guy +as comes here bluffin' about bein' down an' out, this guy as plays at +sellin' peanuts is--Geoffrey Ravenslee, the millionaire." + +"But--he is--Arthur's friend!" + +"Friend--nothin'!" said he, wringing and wrenching at the neckerchief, +"I guess you ain't found out how th' Kid an' him came t' meet, eh? Well, +I'll tell ye--listen! Your brother broke in to this millionaire's swell +house--through the winder--an' this millionaire caught him." + +"Oh," said she, smiling in bitter scorn, "what a clumsy liar you are, +Bud M'Ginnis!" + +"No," he cried eagerly, "no, I ain't tellin' ye no lies; it's God's own +truth I'm givin' ye." + +"No, you're just a liar, Bud M'Ginnis!" and she would have turned from +him, but his savage grip stayed her. + +"A liar, am I?" he cried. "Why, then, you're sister to a crook, see! +Your brother's a thief! a crook! You ain't got much t' be s' proud +over--" + +"Let me go!" + +"Listen! Your brother got into this guy's house t' steal, and this +millionaire guy caught him--in the act! An' havin' nothin' better t' do, +he makes young Spike bring him down here--just t' see th' kind o' folks +as lives in Hell's Kitchen, see? Then he meets you--you look kind o' +good t' him, so he says t' th' Kid, 'Look here,' he says, 'you help me +game along with y'r sister, an' we'll call it quits--'" + +Breaking from his hold, Hermione entered the little parlour, and +sinking down beside the table, crouched there, hiding her face, while +M'Ginnis, leaning in the doorway, watched her, his strong hands twisting +and wrenching at the neckerchief. + +"Ah, leave me now!" she pleaded, "you've done enough, so--go now--go!" + +"Oh, I'll go. I come here t' put ye wise--an' I have! You're on to it +all now, I guess. Nooport and Fifth Av'ner's a good ways from Hell's +Kitchen and Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't never come together. I guess +there's sure some difference between this swell guy with all his +millions an' a Tenth Av'ner girl as is a--thief's sister--" + +Slowly Hermione lifted her head and looked up at him, and M'Ginnis saw +that in her face which struck him mute; the neckerchief fell from his +nerveless fingers and lay there all unheeded. + +"Hermione," he muttered, "I--girl, are ye--sick?" + +"Go!" she whispered, "go!" + +And turning about, M'Ginnis stumbled out of the place and left her +alone. For a long time she sat there, motionless and crouched above the +table, staring blindly before her, and in her eyes an agony beyond +tears, heedless of the flight of time, conscious only of a pain sharper +than flesh can know. Suddenly a key was thrust in the lock of the outer +door, footsteps sounded along the passage accompanied by a merry +whistling, and Spike appeared. + +"Hello, Hermy, ain't tea ready yet?" he enquired, tossing aside his +straw hat and opening a newspaper he carried, "say, the Giants are sure +playin' great ball this season--what, are ye asleep?" + +"No, dear!" + +"Why, Hermy," he exclaimed, dropping the paper and clasping an arm about +her, "Oh, Hermy--what is it?" + +"Oh, boy--dear, dear boy--you didn't, did you?" she cried feverishly. +"You are a little wild--sometimes, dear, just a little--but you are +good--and honourable, aren't you?" + +"Why, yes, Hermy I--I try t' be," he answered uneasily; "but I don't +know what you mean." + +"You're not a thief, are you? You're not a burglar? You never broke into +any one's house. I know you didn't, but--tell me you didn't--tell me you +didn't!" + +"No--no, o' course not," stammered Spike and, averting his head, tried +to draw away, but she clung to him all the closer. + +"Boy--boy dear," she whispered breathlessly, "oh, boy, look at me!" + +But seeing he kept his face still turned from her, she set a hand to his +cheek and very gently forced him to meet her look. For a long moment she +gazed thus--saw how his eyes quailed, saw how his cheek blanched, and as +he cowered away, she rose slowly to her feet, and into her look came a +growing horror; beholding which Spike covered his face and shrank away +from her. + +"Oh, boy--" her voice had sunk to a whisper now, "oh, boy--say you +didn't!" + +"Hermy--I--can't--" + +"Can't?" + +"It's--it's all--true. Yes, I did! Oh, Hermy, forgive me." + +"Tell me!" + +"Oh, forgive me, Hermy, forgive me!" he cried, reaching out and trying +to catch her hand. "Yes, I'll tell ye. I--I got in--through th' winder, +an' Geoff caught me. But he let me go again--he said he'd never tell +nobody if--ah, don't look at me like that!" + +"If--what?" + +"If I'd bring him back here with me--Hermy, don't! Your eyes hurt +me--don't look at me that way." + +"So it--is--all--true!" + +"Oh, forgive me, forgive me!" he pleaded, throwing himself on his knees +before her and writhing in the anguish of remorse. "They doped me, +Hermy, I--didn't know what I was doin'--they didn't give me no time t' +think. Oh, forgive me, Hermy; Geoff forgave me, an' you must--oh, God, +you must, Hermy!" Again he sought to reach her hand, but now it was she +who shrank away. + +"I loved you so--I--loved--you so!" she said dully. + +"Hermy," he cried, catching hold of her dress, "forgive me--just this +once, for God's sake! I ain't got nobody in the world but you--forgive +me!" And now his pleading was broken by fierce sobs, and he sought to +hide his tear-stained face in the folds of her dress, but she drew it +quickly from him, shrinking away almost as if she feared him. + +"A thief!" she whispered, "oh, God--my brother a thief! I don't +seem--able to--think. Go away--go away, I--must be--alone!" + +"Hermy, dear, I swear--oh, I swear I'll--" + +"Go away!" + +"Oh, Hermy, I didn't think you'd ever--turn away--from me." + +"Go away!" + +"Oh, Hermy--won't you listen?" + +"I can't! Not now. Go away." + +Sobbing, the boy got to his feet, and taking his hat, crossed +slow-footed to the door; there he paused to look back at her, but her +staring eyes gazed through him and, turning hopelessly away, he brushed +his sleeve across his cheek and, treading slow and heavily along the +passage, was gone. + +Dry-eyed she stood awhile, then sank again beside the table and crouched +there with face bowed between outstretched arms, and hands tight +clenched. Evening began to fall, but still she sat huddled there, +motionless, and uttering no sound, and still her eyes were tearless. +At last she stirred, conscious of a quick, firm step near by, and, +thrilling to that sound, rose and stood with her back to the fading +light as Ravenslee entered. + +"Dear," said he, tender and eager, "I found the door open--did you leave +it for me? Why, Hermione--oh, my love, what is it?" and he would have +caught her to him, but she held him away and questioned him, +quick-breathing: + +"You are--Geoffrey Ravenslee--the millionaire--aren't you?" + +"Why--er--I--I'm afraid I am," he stammered. "I'm sorry you found it out +so soon, dearest; I wanted to tell you after we--" + +"Oh, why didn't you tell me before--why didn't you? No--please wait! +You--you caught my--brother, didn't you?" she went on breathlessly; "he +had broken in--was burgling your house, wasn't he--wasn't he?" + +"How in the world," began Ravenslee, flinching, "who told--" + +"He broke into your house to--steal, didn't he--didn't he?" + +"But, good heavens--that was all forgotten and done with long ago! +They'd made the poor chap drunk--he didn't know what he was doing--it's +all forgotten long ago! Dear heart, why are you so pale? God, +Hermione--nothing can alter our love!" + +"No, nothing can alter our love," she repeated in the same dull tones. +"Oh, no, nothing can ever alter that; even though you deceived me I +shall always love you, I can't help it. And just because I do love you +so, and because I am a thief's sister, I--oh, I can never be your +wife--I couldn't, could I?" + +"By God, Hermione, but you shall!" As he spoke he caught her in his +arms, passionate arms that drew and held her close. Very still and +unresisting she lay in his embrace, uttering no word; and stooping, he +kissed her fiercely--her lips, her eyes, her white throat, her hair, +and, silent still, she yielded herself to his caresses. + +"You are mine, Hermione, mine always and forever! You are the one woman +I long for--the wife nature intended for me! You are mine, Hermione!" + +Very softly she answered, her eyes closed: + +"I felt at the first there was a gulf dividing us--and now--this gulf +is wider--so wide it can never be crossed by either of us. Your world is +not my world, after all--you are Geoffrey Ravenslee and I am only--what +I am. Newport and Fifth Avenue are a long way from Hell's Kitchen and +Tenth Avenue, and they can never--never come together. And I--am a +thief's sister, so please, please loose me--oh, have mercy and--let me +go." + +His arms fell from her and, shivering, she sank beside the table, and +the pale agony of her face smote him. + +"But you love me, Hermione?" he pleaded. + +"If I had only known," she sighed, "I might not have learned to love +you--quite so much! If I had only known!" Her voice was soft and low, +her blue eyes wide and tearless, and because of this, he trembled. + +"Hermione," said he gently, "all this week I have been planning for you +and Arthur. I have been dreaming of our life together, yours and mine, +a life so big, so wonderful, so full of happiness that I trembled, +sometimes, dreading it was only a dream. Dear, the gates of our paradise +are open; will you shut me out? Must I go back to my loneliness?" + +"I shall be lonely, too!" she murmured brokenly. "But better, oh, far +better loneliness than that some day--" she paused, her lips quivering. + +"Some day, Hermione?" + +"You should find that you had married not only a scrubwoman but--the +sister of a--thief!" Suddenly she sprang to her feet, her clinging arms +held him to her bosom and, drawing down his head, she pressed her mouth +to his; holding him thus, she spoke, her voice low and quick and +passionate: + +"Oh, my love, my love! I do love you with every thought, with every part +of me--so much, so very much that my heart is breaking, I think. But, +dearest, my love is such that I would be everything fair and beautiful +for you, everything proud and good and noble for you if I could. But I +am only Hermy Chesterton, a Tenth Avenue girl, and--my brother--So I'm +going to send you away, back to your own world, back to your own kind +because--because I do love you so! Ah, God, never doubt my love, +but--you must go--" + +"Never, Hermione, never!" + +"You must! You will, I know, because your love is a big, generous +love--because you are chivalrous and strong and gentle--because I beg +and implore you if you have any pity for me--go--" + +"But why?--Why?" + +"Oh, must I tell you that--can't you understand?" + +"Why must I go, Hermione?" + +"Because," she murmured, her yearning arms close about him, her face +close hidden against his breast, "because I'll never--marry +you--now--but I love you--love you so much that I'm afraid--ah, not of +you. So, I must be alone--quite alone--to fight my battle. And now--now +that I've shown you all my heart, told you all my weakness, you'll go +for my sake--just for my sake--won't you?" + +"Yes--I'll--go!" he answered slowly. + +"Away from here--to-night?" + +"Yes," he answered hoarsely, "yes!" + +Then Hermione fell suddenly before him on her knees, and, before he +could stay her, had caught his hands, kissing them, wetting them with +her tears, and pressing them passionately to her bosom. + +"I knew," she cried, "I knew that you were strong and gentle and--good. +Good-by--oh, my love--good-by!" + +"Hermione," said he, kissing her bowed head, "oh, my Hermione, I love +you with a love that will die only when I do. I want you, and I'll never +lose hope of winning you--some day, never give up my determination to +marry you--never, so help me God!" + +Then swiftly he turned away but, reaching the door, stooped and picked +up M'Ginnis's neckerchief and, recognising it, crumpled it in fierce +hand; so, with it clenched in griping fingers, he hurried away and left +her there upon her knees. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE DEPARTED FROM HELL'S KITCHEN + + +"What, back again already, Mr. Geoffrey?" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, poking +her head around the kitchen door, as Ravenslee entered the flat, "back +so soon?" + +"Only for a minute, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Supper'll be ready soon--your wedding supper, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? You'll +have it here with me, you an' Hermy, o' course! Smells kind o' good, +don't it?" + +"Delicious, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Delicious is the word, Mr. Geoffrey--stooed beef with carrots--" + +"And onions, Mrs. Trapes--onions, I'm sure?" + +"Well, I'll not deny a onion here an' there, Mr. Geoffrey--a stoo needs +'em." + +"Ah, I knew it!" sighed Ravenslee. "I grieve that I shan't be able to +eat it." + +"Not eat--what, you? Say, y' ain't sick, are you?" + +"Not in body, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Then why no stoo?" + +"Because I shan't be here. I'm going, Mrs. Trapes--I'm leaving +Mulligan's now--for good--" + +"Leavin'--y' mean with Hermy?" + +"No--alone. Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"My land!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, "what you tellin' me?" + +"Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"But why? Oh, dear Lord, what is it? Who--" + +"I want to thank you--for all your kindness. Good-by!" + +As one in a dream Mrs. Trapes extended a limp hand and stood wide of +eye and pale of cheek to watch him go; and as he descended the stairs, +her look of helpless, pained surprise went with him. Swiftly he strode +across that familiar court, shoulders squared, chin outthrust, and eyes +that glowed ominously in his pale face beneath fierce-scowling brows. As +he turned into Tenth Avenue there met him the Spider. + +"What you chasin' this time, bo?" he enquired. + +"M'Ginnis." + +"Then you're sure chasin' trouble." + +"That's what I want. D' you know where he is?" + +"Sure I do, but--" + +The Spider paused, drawing in his breath slowly, as with experienced +gaze he viewed Ravenslee's pale, set face--the delicate nostrils wide +and quivering, the relentless mouth and burning eyes and all the +repressed ferocity of him and, drawing back a step, the Spider shook his +head. + +"Bo," said he, "that's jest what I ain't goin' t' tell ye." + +"Very well, I must find him." + +"Don't!" said the Spider, walking on beside him, "if I didn't think a +whole lot o' ye, I'd lead ye t' him." + +"Oh--I shall find him, if it takes me all night." + +"An' if ye do, it'll be murder, I'm dead sure--" + +"Murder?" said Ravenslee with a flash of white teeth. "Well, I shall +certainly kill him--this time!" + +"Is it th' Kid again?" + +"No--oh, no, it's just for my own satisfaction--and pleasure." + +"You ain't heeled, are ye? This ain't goin' t' be no gun-play--eh?" + +"No, I haven't a gun, but I've brought his--neckerchief." + +"Sufferin' Pete!" murmured the Spider in a strangely awed voice, and +walked on in silence, chewing viciously. + +"Bo," said he at last, "I'm thinkin' th' kindest thing I could do would +be t' slip one over t' your point while you wasn't lookin', an' puttin' +you t' sleep a bit--you want soothin'! Bud'll be too big fer you or any +other guy t' tackle now; ye see, his stock's rose--th' Noo Jersey +p'lice wasn't strong enough t' hold him--" + +"That's where I'm different--I can!" said Ravenslee, opening and +shutting his right hand convulsively. "Yes, I'll hold him till his last +kick--and after!" + +"My God!" exclaimed the Spider softly, and, beholding that clutching +right hand, he edged away. + +"Where you goin' t' look fer him?" he enquired after a while. + +"O'Rourke's!" + +"Why not try Raynor's first?" and he nodded to a saloon on the adjacent +corner. + +"Because I'm not a fool." + +"Bo, I ain't s' sure o' that! O'Rourke's'll be full o' tough guys +t'night; all th' bunch'll be there, an' if Bud tips 'em th' say-so, +they'll snuff your light out quicker 'n winkin'." + +"That wouldn't be such a hardship." + +"Oh, so that's it, hey? You got a kiss-me-an'-let-me-die sort o' +feelin', hey? Some nice bit o' stuff been turnin' ye down, bo?" + +"That'll be about enough!" said Ravenslee, quick and fierce; and, +meeting the flash of his eye, the Spider edged away again. + +"Sufferin' Mike!" said he, "you sure ain't doin' the affable chat stunt +t'night!" + +But Ravenslee strode along in silence, and the Spider, heeding the pale, +set ferocity of his expression, grew troubled. + +"Say," said he at last, "this don't happen t' be th' night as you've +fixed up t' smash th' gang, does it?" + +"No--only M'Ginnis." + +"S'posin' he ain't at O'Rourke's?" + +"He'll be somewhere else." + +"Bo, if I was your ma, I should be prayin' you don't find Bud, yes, sir! +An' I should pray--dam' hard!" + +By this time they had reached Eleventh Avenue and were close upon the +saloon when Ravenslee halted suddenly, for, beneath a lamp on the +opposite sidewalk, he saw M'Ginnis in talk with two other men. + +Drawing the neckerchief from his pocket, Ravenslee crossed over and +tapped M'Ginnis on the arm, who, turning about, stared into a pallid +face within a foot of his own. + +"What th' hell--" he began, but Ravenslee cut him short. + +"You left this behind you," said he, thrusting forward the neckerchief, +"so I've brought it to twist around that foul throat of yours. Now, +M'Ginnis--fight!" + +Thrusting the neckerchief into his pocket, Ravenslee clenched his fists, +and, saying no more, they closed and fought--not as men, but rather as +brute beasts eager to maim and rend. + +M'Ginnis's companions, dumbfounded by the sudden ferocity of it all, +stood awhile inactive, staring at those two forms that lurched and +swayed, that strove and panted, grimly speechless. Then, closing in, +they waited an opportunity to smite down M'Ginnis's foe from behind. But +the Spider was watching, and, before either of them could kick or +strike, his fists thudded home--twice--hard blows aimed with scientific +precision; after which, having dragged the fallen away from those +fierce-trampling feet, he stood, quivering and tense, to watch that +desperate encounter. + +Once Ravenslee staggered back from a vicious flush-hit, and once +M'Ginnis spun around to fall upon hands and knees; then they clenched, +and coming to the ground together, fought there, rolling to and fro and +hideously twisted together. But slowly Ravenslee's clean living began +to tell, and M'Ginnis, wriggling beneath a merciless grip, uttered +inarticulate cries and groaned aloud. And now the deadly neckerchief +was about his gasping throat and in his ears his conqueror's fierce +laugh--lost all at once in a roar of voices, a rush of trampling feet. + +Wrenched at by fierce hands, smitten by unseen fists, Ravenslee was +beaten down--was dimly aware of the Spider's long legs bestriding him, +and staggering up through a tempest of blows, hurled himself among his +crowding assailants, felled one with his right, stopped another with his +left, and, as the press broke to the mad fury of his onslaught, felt his +hand wrenched from a man's windpipe and heard a frantic voice that +panted: + +"Leg it, bo, leg it. Hully Chee! ain't ye had enough?" So, mechanically, +he set off at a run, with his arm still gripped by the Spider. "Leg it, +bo--leg it good, or here's where we snuff it sure! This way--round th' +corner; only keep goin', bo, keep goin'." + +Very fleetly they ran with their pursuers close on their heels, across +open lots, over fences, along tortuous alleys, until the rush and patter +of the many feet died away, and the Spider, pulling up at the corner of +a dismal, narrow street hard by the river, stood awhile to listen. + +"Jiminy Christmas! but you're some hot stuff at the swattin' +business--you're a glutton, you are, bo. I been in one or two scraps +meself, but I never seen a guy so hungry for--" + +"Where are we?" + +"Thirteenth an' Twentieth." + +"Are we safe?" + +"F' th' time, I reckon. But all Hell's Kitchen'll be out after us +t'night, sure. So I guess it's us for th' immediate hike--" + +"Us? Will they be after you, too?" + +"Well," said the Spider, smiling down grimly at his damaged, knuckles, +"I guess yes! Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner's got t' get along without +me from now on, I reckon. They ain't losin' much, an' I ain't leavin' +much, but--" + +"Why the devil had you got to follow me to-night?" demanded Ravenslee, +scowling. + +"Bo," said the Spider as they went on again, "there's times when my +likin' f'r you gets a pain; there's times when y'r talk gives me th' +earache, an' y'r lovin' looks the willies. I ain't lookin' f'r no +gratitood, nor yet a gold dinner-set an' loominated address, but, not +ownin' a hide like a sole-leather Saratoga, I'll jest get on me way--S' +long!" + +"Where are you going?" + +"I dunno, but--I'm goin' there, right now." + +But as the Spider turned away, his hand was caught and gripped, and +Ravenslee was smiling; his features looked a bit battered, but his smile +was pleasant as ever. + +"Forgive my cursed temper, Spider. I owe you my life again and--I ought +to be grateful, I suppose. Forgive me, I'm--not quite myself to-night." + +"Sure thing!" said the Spider, returning his grasp, "but, bo, I'm kind +o' wonderin' in me little mind what Bud's feelin' like! You sure swatted +him good an' heavy. I never seen cleaner footwork, an' them left jabs o' +yours--" + +"The question is, how do you feel, Spider, and what are you going to +do?" + +The pugilist scratched his rough chin. "Well, that's what gets my goat; +I dunno quite, bo. Y' see, I shan't be able t' get no more fights here +in the East now, not wi' Bud 'n' his old man against me--y' see, Bud's +old man's about the biggest--" + +"I wonder if you'd care to come with me?" + +"Whaffor?" + +"Well, for one thing, I need another chauffeur and--" + +"A--what?" The Spider halted under a lamp-post to stare at Ravenslee a +little anxiously. "Say, now, take a holt of ye'self an' jest put that +one over th' plate again--you need a--what?" + +"Another chauffeur." + +"Another shuvver--another? Bo, y' didn't happen t' get a soak on th' +bean just now, did ye?" + +"No." + +"Well, then, I guess you're some shook up; what you want's food, right +now!" + +"Why, yes, now you mention it, I'm devilish hungry," agreed Ravenslee. + +"Leave it t' me, bo--I know a chewin'-joint close by--soup, joint, +sweets, an' coffee an' only a quarter a throw--some feed, bo! Shin right +along, I'll--" + +"No, you shall come home and dine with me." + +"Home?" repeated the Spider, halting to stare again; "you're sure +talkin' ramblin'--" + +"We can discuss the chauffeur's job then--" + +"Shuvver?" said the Spider uneasily. "But what's a guy like you want +with a shuvver?" + +"Well, to drive my car--and--" + +"Car?" said the Spider, his uneasiness growing, "got a car now, have ye, +bo?" + +"I rather think I've got six." + +"Sufferin' Sam!" The Spider scratched his chin while his keen eyes roved +over Ravenslee's exterior apprehensively. "Say, bo, you quite sure none +o' th' bunch booted you on th' dome--eh?" + +"Quite sure." + +"An' yet you got six auter-mobiles. I say--you think so." + +"Now I think again, they're seven with the newest racer." + +"Say, now, jest holt still a minute! Now, swaller twice, think dam' +hard, an' tell me again! You got how many?" + +"Seven!" + +"Got anythin' else?" + +"Oh, yes, a few things." + +"Tell us jest one." + +"Well, a yacht." + +"Oh, a yacht?" + +"A yacht." + +"'S 'nuff, bo, 's 'nuff! But go on--go on, get it all off if you'll feel +better after. Anythin' more?" + +"Why, yes, about twenty or thirty houses and castles and palaces and +things--" + +"That settles it sure!" sighed the Spider. "You're comin' t' see a +doctor, that's what! Your dome's sure got bent in with a boot or +somethin'." + +"No, Spider, I just happen to be born the son of a millionaire, that's +all." + +"Think o' that, now!" nodded the Spider, "a millionaire now--how nice! +An' what do they call ye at home?" + +"Geoffrey Ravenslee." + +"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, falling back a step. "The guy as went +ten rounds with Dick Dunoon at th' 'National?' The guy as won th' +Auter-mobile Race? Th' guy as bought up Mulligan's--you?" + +"Why, yes. By the way, I sat in the front row and watched you lick Larry +McKinnon at 'Frisco; I was afraid you were going to recognise me, once +or twice." + +"Then, you--you _have_ got a yacht, th' big one as lays off Twenty-third +Street?" + +"Also seven cars; that's why I want you for a chauffeur." + +"Ho-ly Gee!" murmured the dazed Spider. "Well, say, you sure have got me +goin'! A millionaire! A peanut cart! A yacht! Well, say, I--I guess it's +time I got on me way. S' long!" + +"No you don't, my Spider; you're coming home with me." + +"What--me? Not much I ain't--no, sir! I ain't no giddy gink t' go dinin' +with millionaires in open-faced clo'es--not me!" + +"But you're coming to have dinner with that same peanut man who learned +to respect you because you were a real, white man, Spider Connolly. And +that's another reason why I want you for my chauffeur." + +"But--say, I--I can't shuv." + +"Joe shall teach you." + +"Joe? Y' mean--Joe Madden?" + +"He'll be chauffeur number one--and there's a cross-town car! Come on, +Spider! Now--in with you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES A HAND + + +O'Rourke's was full: its long bar, shaped something like the letter J, +supported many lounging arms and elbows; its burnished foot-rail was +scraped by boots of many shapes and sizes; its heavy air, thick with +cigarette smoke, hummed with many voices. In one corner, a remote corner +where few ventured to penetrate, Soapy leaned, as pallid and +noncommittal as ever, while Spike poured out to him the story of his +woes. + +"She drove me out, Soapy! She drove me away from her!" he repeated for +the hundredth time. The boy was unnaturally flushed and bright of eye, +and his voice was as shaky as the hand which fidgeted with his whisky +glass; and the sense of his wrongs was great and growing greater with +every sip. + +"She told me t' leave her! She drove me away from her--" + +"So you come here, eh, Kid?" drawled Soapy, pendent cigarette +smouldering. "You skinned over here t' Bud f' comfort, an' you'll sure +get it, Kid--in a glass!" + +"Bud's always good t' me--" + +"'S right, Kid, 's right, Bud's an angel sure, though he ain't got no +wings yet. Oh, Bud'll comfort ye--frequent, an' by an' by he'll take ye +back t' Hermy good an' soused; you can get your own back that ways--eh, +Kid? It'll sure make her sit up an' take notice when she sees ye come in +reelin' an' staggerin'--eh, Kid? An' to-morrow you'll be sick mebbe, an' +she'll have ter nurse ye--oh, Bud'll fix things fer ye, I guess." Spike +glowered and pushed his half-emptied glass further away. + +"I ain't goin' home soused!" he muttered. + +"No?" said Soapy, faintly surprised. "Bud'll feel kind o' hurt, won't +he?" + +"I ain't goin' home soused--not for Bud nor nobody else!" + +"Why, then, if I was you, Kid, I should beat it before Bud comes in." + +"I guess I will," said Spike, rising. + +But now was sudden uproar of voices in the street hard by, a running +and trampling of feet, and, the swing doors opening, a group of men +appeared, bearing among them a heavy burden; and coming to the quiet +corner they laid M'Ginnis there. Battered, bloody, and torn he lay, +his handsome features swollen and disfigured, his clothes dusty and +dishevelled, while above him and around him men stooped and peered and +whispered. + +"Why, it's--it's--Bud!" stammered Spike, shrinking away from that +inanimate form, "my God! It's--Bud!" + +"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy imperturbably, hands in pockets and, +though his voice sounded listless as ever, his eyes gleamed evilly, +and the dangling cigarette quivered and stirred. + +"Ain't--dead, is he?" some one questioned. + +"Dead--not much!" answered Soapy, "guess it's goin' to take more 'n that +t' make Bud a stiff 'un. Besides, Bud ain't goin' t' die that way, no, +not--that way, I reckon. Dead? Watch this!" So saying, he reached +Spike's half-emptied glass from the bar and, not troubling to stoop, +poured the raw spirit down upon M'Ginnis's pale, blood-smirched face. + +"Dead?" said Soapy. "Well, I guess not--look at him!" + +And, sure enough, M'Ginnis stirred, groaned, opened swollen eyelids and, +aided by some ready arm, sat up feebly. Then he glanced up at the ring +of peering faces and down upon his rent and dusty person, and fell to a +sudden, fierce torrent of curses; cursing thus, his strength seemed to +return all at once, for he sprang to his feet and with clenched fists +drove through the crowd, and lifting a flap in the bar, opened a door +beyond and was gone. + +"No," said Soapy, shaking his head, "I guess Bud ain't dead--yet, +fellers. I wonder who gave him that eye, Kid? An' his mouth too! Did ye +pipe them split lips! Kind o' painful, I guess. An' a couple o' teeth +knocked out too! Some punchin', Kid! An' Bud kind o' fancied them nice, +white teeth of his a whole heap!" + +Here the bartender glanced toward the corner where they stood, and, +lifting an eyebrow, jerked his thumb at the door behind him with the +words: "Kid, I reckon Bud wants ye." + +For a moment Spike hesitated then, lifting the mahogany flap, crossed +the bar, and opened the door. + +"Guess I'll come along, Kid," and, hands in pockets, Soapy followed. + +They found M'Ginnis sprawling at a table and scowling at the knuckles of +his bruised right hand while at his elbow were a bottle and two glasses. +He had washed the blood and dirt from him, had brushed and straightened +his dusty garments, but he couldn't hide the cuts and bruises that +disfigured his face, nor his scratched and swollen throat. + +"What you here for?" he demanded, as Soapy closed the door, "didn't send +for you, did I?" + +"No, that's why I come, Bud." + +"But, say, Bud, what--what's been th' matter?" stammered Spike, his gaze +upon M'Ginnis's battered face, "who's been--" + +"Matter? Nothin'! I had a bit of a rough-house as I come along--" + +"'S right," nodded Soapy, "you sure look it! Never seen a fatter eye--" + +"Well, what you got t' beef about?" + +"Nothin', Bud, only--" + +"Only what?" + +"It's kind o' tough you losin' them couple o' teeth--or is it three?" + +M'Ginnis turned on him with a snarl. "A-r-r-, you--! Some day I'm goin' +t' kick the insides out o' ye!" + +"Some day, Bud, sure. I'll be waitin'! Meantime why not get some +doctor-guy t' put ye face back in shape--gee, I hate t' see ye--you look +like a butcher's shop! An' them split lips pains some, I guess!" + +Here, while M'Ginnis choked in impotent rage, Soapy lit a fresh +cigarette from the butt of the last and held out the packet. + +"Try a coffin-nail, Bud? No? Well, I guess y' couldn't smoke good with a +mouth on ye like that." + +"Who did it, Bud?" questioned Spike eagerly. "Who was it?" + +"Hush up, Kid, hush up!" said Soapy, viewing M'Ginnis's cuts and bruises +with glistening eyes. "I guess that guy's layin' around somewheres +waitin' f'r th' coroner--Bud wouldn't let him make such a holy mess +of his face an' get away with it--not much! Bud's a killer, I know +that--don't I, Bud?" + +"You close up that dog's head o' yours, Soapy, or by--" + +"'S all right, Bud, 's all right. Don't get peeved; I'll close up +tighter 'n a clam, only--it's kinder tough about them teeth--" + +"Are ye goin' t' cut it out or shall--" + +"Aw, calm down, Bud, calm down! Take a drink; it'll do ye good." And +filling a glass with rye whisky, Soapy set it before M'Ginnis, who +cursed him, took it up, and turned to Spike. + +"Fill it up, Kid," he commanded. + +"Not me, Bud, I--I ain't here for that," said Spike. "I come t' tell ye +as some dirty guy's been an' blown th' game on me t' Hermy; she--she +knows everything, an' to-night she--drove me away from her--" + +"Did she, Kid, oh, did she?" said M'Ginnis, a new note of eagerness in +his voice. "Drove ye out onto th' streets, Kid? That's dam' hard on +you!" + +"Yes, Bud, I--guess she--don't want me around--" + +"Kind o' looks that way!" nodded M'Ginnis, and filling Spike's glass, +he put it into the boy's unwilling fingers. "Take a drink, Kid; ye sure +need it!" said he. + +"'S right," murmured Soapy, "told ye Bud 'ud comfort ye, didn't I, Kid?" + +"So Hermy's drove ye away?" said M'Ginnis, "throwed ye out--eh?" + +"She sure has, Bud, an' I--Oh, I'm miserable as hell!" + +"Why, then, get some o' Bud's comfort into ye, Kid," murmured Soapy. +"Lap it up good, Kid; there's plenty more--in th' bottle!" + +"Let him alone," growled M'Ginnis, "he don't want you buttin' in!" + +"'S right, too, Bud!" nodded Soapy, "he's got you, ain't he? An' +you--got him, ain't you?" + +"I didn't think Hermy 'ud ever treat me--like this!" said Spike +tearfully. + +"You mean--throwin' ye out into th' streets, Kid? Why, I been expectin' +it!" + +"Expectin' it?" repeated Spike, setting down his glass and staring, +"why?" + +"Well, she's a girl, ain't she, an' they're all th' same, I reckon--" + +"An' Bud knows all about girls, Kid!" murmured Soapy. "Bud's wise t' all +their tricks--ain't you, Bud?" + +"But whatcher mean?" cried Spike. "What ye mean about expectin' it?" + +"Well, she don't want ye no more, does she?" answered M'Ginnis, his +bruised hands fierce clenched, his voice hoarse and thick with passion. +"She's got some one else now--ain't she? She's--in love--ain't she? +She's all waked up an' palpitatin' for--for that dam'--" he choked, and +set one hand to his scratched throat. + +"What d'ye mean, Bud?" + +"Ah!" said Soapy, softer than before, "I'm on, Bud; you put me wise! He +means, Kid, as Hermy's in love with th' guy as has just been punchin' +hell out of him--he means your pal Geoff." With a hoarse, strangling +cry, M'Ginnis leapt up, his hand flashed behind him, and--he stood +suddenly very still, staring into the muzzle of the weapon Soapy had +levelled from his hip. + +"Aw, quit it, Bud, quit it," he sighed, "it ain't come t' that--yet. +Besides, the Kid's here, so loose ye gun, Bud. No, give it t'me; you're +a bit on edge t'night, I guess, an' it might go off an' break a glass or +somethin'. So gimme ye gun, Bud. That's it! Now we can sit an' talk real +sociable, can't we? Now listen, Bud--what you want is t' get your own +back on this guy Geoff, an' what th' Kid wants is t' show his sister as +he ain't a kid, an' what I want is t' give ye both a helpin' hand--" + +But while M'Ginnis stood scowling at the imperturbable speaker, Spike +rose, a little unsteadily, and turned to the door. + +"I'll be gettin' on me way, Bud," said he. + +"Where to?" + +"Home." + +"What! Back t' Hermy? After she turned ye out?" + +"But I--I got t' go somewheres--" + +"Well, you stay right here with me, Kid; I'll fix ye up all right--" + +"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy. "Bud'll fix ye all right, same as I +said; we'll have in another bottle when that's empty!" + +"What about your sister, Kid?" demanded M'Ginnis fiercely. "What about +Hermy an' this swell guy? Are y' goin' t' sit around an' do nothin'?" + +"But Geoff's goin' t' marry her." + +"Marry her! What, him? A millionaire marry your sister? You think so, +an' she thinks so, but I know different!" + +"But Hermy ain't that sort. Hermy's--good--" + +"Sure, but this guy's got her fazed--she thinks he's square all +right--she'll trust him an' then--s'posin' he ain't?" + +"I--I ain't s'posin' nothin' like that!" said Spike, gulping his +whisky. + +"Well, s'posin' he's been meetin' her--in a wood--on the sly--eh? +S'posin' they been huggin' an' kissin'--" + +"Say now--you cut that out--" stammered Spike, his voice thick. "I tell +ye--she ain't--that kind." + +"S'posin'," continued Bud, refilling the lad's glass, "s'posin' I could +show 'em to ye in a wood--eh? Ah! What she want t' meet him in a wood +for, anyway--nice an' quiet, eh?" + +"Say now, Bud, I--I ain't goin' t' listen t' no more!" said Spike, +rising and clutching at the table, "I--I'm goin' home!" And swaying on +unsteady feet, he turned to the door, but M'Ginnis gripped his shoulder. + +"Wait a bit, Kid." + +"N-no, I'm--goin' home--see!" said Spike, setting his jaw obstinately, +"I'm goin'--r-right now!" + +"That's just what you ain't!" snarled M'Ginnis. "Sit down! Hermy's only +a work-girl--don't forget that, Kid--an' this guy's a millionaire. I +guess he thinks Hermy'll do--till he gets tired of her an'--then what?" + +"He--told me he's goin' t' marry her!" said Spike slowly, speaking with +an effort, "an' I guess Geoff ain't a liar. An' I wanter--go home." + +"Home--after she throwed ye out? Ain't ye got no pride?" + +"Aw, say, Bud," sighed Soapy, "I guess d' Kid ain't soused enough for +pride yet; sling another glass int' him--that'll fix him good, I +reckon." + +"I ain't g-goin' t' drink no more," said Spike, resting heavy head +between his hands, "I guess I'll b-beat it home, f'lers." + +"Bud," suggested Soapy, "ain't it about time you rang in little Maggie +on him?" + +M'Ginnis whirled upon the speaker, snarling, but Soapy, having lighted +another cigarette, nudged Spike with a sharp elbow. + +"Kid," said he, "Bud's goin' t' remind ye of little Maggie Finlay--you +remember little Maggie as drowned herself." Spike lifted a pale face +and stared from the placid Soapy to scowling Bud and shrank away. + +"Yes," he whispered hoarsely, "yes--I'll never forget how she +looked--pale, so pale an' still, an' th' water--runnin' out of her brown +curls--I--I'll never forget--" + +"Well," growled M'Ginnis, "watch out Hermy don't end th' same way." + +"No!" cried Spike. "Oh, my God--no!" + +"What's she meetin' this millionaire in a wood for--on the sly?" + +"She don't! Hermy ain't like that." + +"I tell ye she does!" cried M'Ginnis, "an' him kissin' an' squeezin' her +an'--nobody by--" + +"It's a lie, Bud--she--she wouldn't!" + +"S'posin' I could show ye? S'pose you see him there--waitin' for her--" + +"If--if he means any harm t' Hermy, I--I'll kill him!" + +"Aw--you wouldn't have the nerve, Kid!" + +"I'd shoot him dead--by God, I would!" + +"You ain't man enough, Kid." + +"You g-give me a gun an' see. I'd shoot any one t' save my sister +from--th' river. Oh, my God--I--I'd die for her, an' she don't love me +no more!" And leaning his head upon his arms, Spike burst into a passion +of tears. M'Ginnis watched him awhile, then, filling the boy's glass, +clapped him on the shoulder and held it to his lips. + +"Neck this, Kid," said he, "neck it all--so, that's good, ain't it? +To-morrow evenin' I'll take ye where they meet; maybe you'll ketch him +waitin' for her--but instead of Hermy an' kisses there'll be you an' me, +hey? Will ye come?" + +"S-sure I will if--you'll gimme--your gun." + +"Pshaw, Kid--what's a kid like you want with a gun?" + +"T'shoot him--" + +"Eh? What? D'ye mean--?" + +"If he's after my sister, I'll--kill him! I will, by God, I will!" + +"'S right," nodded Soapy, staring into the boy's drawn face, "'s right, +Bud; if ever I see a killer--th' Kid's sure it!" + +Slowly the glare died out of Spike's eyes, his body drooped, and +sighing, he pillowed his heavy head upon the table and fell into a +drunken slumber. For a while the two men sat there hearkening to his +stertorous breathing, then Soapy laughed soft and mirthlessly. "You sure +got th' Kid all worked up an' mad enough t'--kill, eh, Bud? If he does +get up against this guy Geoff--this guy Geoff's sure goin' t' cash +in--sudden. Consequently, I guess you'll be wantin' paper an' +pencil--both here!" + +"What th' hell--" began M'Ginnis. + +"Telegram, Bud. You're goin' t' frame up a nice little telegram t' this +guy Geoff--oh, you sure are th' fly gazebo! A nice little message--'meet +me t'morrow in the wood at sunset--Hermy?' Somethin' nice 'n' romantic +like that'll bring him on th' run--eh, Bud? Then, 'stead of Hermy, comes +you an' th' Kid, eh, Bud? An' 'stead of kisses, this guy Geoff gets a +lead pill--eh, Bud? Th' Kid can't miss if you get him close enough. It +sure is some scheme, Bud; I couldn't have thought it out better myself. +Paper 'n' pencil, Bud--get busy an' I'll sashay over an' send it off for +ye--t'night." + +During Soapy's unusually long speech, M'Ginnis sat staring at him under +frowning brows, but now he turned and scowled down at the sheet of +paper, picked up the pencil, laid it by again and sat opening and +shutting his big hands, while Soapy, lighting another cigarette, watched +him furtively. When at last he spoke, his voice was thick, and he didn't +lift his scowling gaze. + +"Send that kid Larry t' me, an' say--you don't have t' come back." + +"All right, Bud, all right--only you'd best send two telegrams t' make +sure--one t' Fift' Av, an' one t' his place up th' river. S' long, +Buddy!" + +Some fifteen minutes later, the boy Larry, stepping out of O'Rourke's, +was swung to the wall in Soapy's grip. + +"Aw--say, cheese it now! Is that you, Soapy?" + +"'S right, my bucko. Fork out that telegram--quick!" + +"Aw, say, what yer mean--'n' say, Bud told me to hustle, 'n' say--" + +"Dig it out--quick!" said Soapy, the dangling cigarette glowing +fiercely. "I want it--see?" + +"But say--" whimpered Larry, "what'll Bud say--" + +"Nothin'! Bud ain't goin' t' know. You take this instead--take it!" And +Soapy thrust another folded paper into the boy's limp hand, who took it +whimpering. + +"Bud tol' me t' bring it back." + +"Well, you tell him you lost it." + +"Not much--I'll skin right back an' tell him you pinched it." + +"You won't, my sport, you won't!" said Soapy, and speaking, moved +suddenly; and the boy, uttering a gasp of terror, shrank cowering with +the muzzle of Soapy's deadly weapon against the pit of his stomach. "You +ain't goin' t' say a word t' Bud nor nobody else, are ye, Larry boy, are +ye?" + +"No--no--" + +"Because if ye ever did, old sport, I should give it ye there--right +there in the tum-tum, see? Now chase off, an' see ye get them addresses +right. S'long, Larry boy, be good now!" When the boy had scudded away, +Soapy opened the paper and scanned the words of M'Ginnis's telegram and, +being alone, smiled as he glanced through it. + +"You got th' Kid, Bud," he murmured, "you got th' Kid--but if th' Kid +gets the guy Geoff, why--I've sure got you, Bud--got ye sure as hell, +Bud!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +OF HARMONY AND DISCORD + + +Mr. Brimberly, comfortably ensconced in Young R.'s favourite armchair, +nodded ponderously and beat time to the twang of Mr. Jenkins's banjo, +whereto Mr. Stevens sang in a high-pitched and rather shaky tenor the +latest musical success yclept "Sammy." Thus, Mr. Jenkins strummed, Mr. +Stevens trilled, and Mr. Brimberly alternately beat the tempo with a +plump white finger and sipped his master's champagne until, having +emptied his glass, he turned to the bottle on the table beside him, +found that empty also, crossed to the two bottles on the mantel, found +them likewise void and had tried the two upon the piano with no better +success, when, the song being ended, Mr. Jenkins struck in with: + +"All dead men, Brim! Six of 'em between us--not bad going, what?" + +"And very good fizz too, on the whole!" added Mr. Stevens. "I always +sing better on champagne. But come, Brim my boy, I've obliged with +everything I know, and Jenk, 'e 's played everything 'e knows, and +I must say with great delicacy an' feelin'--now it's your +turn--somethin'." + +"Well," answered Mr. Brimberly, squinting at an empty bottle, "I used to +know a very good song once, called 'Let's drownd all our sorrers and +cares.' But good 'eavens! we can't drownd 'em in empty bottles, can we?" + +"Oh, very good!" chuckled Mr. Jenkins, "oh, very prime! If I might +suggest, there's nothin' like port--port's excellent tipple for +drowndin' sorrer and downing care--what?" + +"Port, sir?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "we 'ave enough port in our +cellars to drownd every sorrer an' care in Noo York City. I'm proud of +our port, sir, and I'm reckoned a bit of a connysoor--" + +"Ah, it takes a eddicated palate to appreciate good port!" nodded Mr. +Jenkins loftily, "a eddicated palate--what?" + +"Cert'nly!" added Mr. Stevens, "an' here's two palates waitin', waitin' +an' ready to appreciate till daylight doth appear." + +"There's nothin' like port!" sighed Mr. Brimberly, setting aside the +empty champagne bottle, "nothin' like port, and there's Young Har 'ardly +can tell it from sherry--oh, the Goth! the Vandyle! All this good stuff +would be layin' idle if it wasn't for me! Young Har ain't got no right +to be a millionaire; 'is money's wasted on 'im--he neglects 'is +opportoonities shameful--eh, shameful! What I say is--what's the use +of bein' a millionaire if you don't air your millions?" + +Hereupon Mr. Jenkins rocked himself to and fro over his banjo in a +polite ecstasy of mirth. + +"Oh, by Jove!" he gasped, "if that ain't infernal clever, I'll be shot! +Oh, doocid clever I call it--what!" + +"Er--by the way, Brim," said Mr. Stevens, his glance roving toward the +open window, "where does he happen to be to-night?" + +"Where?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, fingering a slightly agitated whisker, +"where is Young Har, sir? Lord, Mr. Stevens, if you ask me that, I +throws up my 'ands, and I answers you--'eavens knows! Young Har is a +unknown quantity, sir--a will o' the wisp, or as you might say, a ignus +fattus. At this pre-cise moment 'e may be in Jerusalem or Jericho +or--a-sittin' outside on the lawn--which Gawd forbid! But there, don't +let's talk of it. Come on down into the cellars, and we'll bring up +enough port to drownd sorrer an' care all night." + +"With all my heart!" said Mr. Jenkins, laying aside his banjo. + +"Ditto, indeed!" nodded Mr. Stevens, slipping a hand in his host's arm, +and thus linked together they made their way out of the room. + +Scarcely had their hilarious voices died away when a muscular brown hand +parted the hangings of an open window, and Geoffrey Ravenslee climbed +into the room. His rough clothes and shabby hat were powdered with dust, +and he looked very much out of place amid his luxurious surroundings as +he paused to glance swiftly from the bottles that decorated the carved +mantel to those on table and piano. Then, light-treading, he crossed the +room, and as the hilarious three were heard approaching, vanished in his +turn. + +"'Ere we are, Jubilee Port!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, setting down two +cobwebbed bottles with elaborate care, "obleege me with the corkscrew, +somebody." + +"Won't forget as you promised us a song, Brim!" said Mr. Jenkins, +passing the necessary implement. + +"Oh, I won't disappoint ye," answered Mr. Brimberly, drawing the cork +with a practised hand; "my father were a regular songster, a fair +carollin' bird 'e were, sir." + +"'Ow about 'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road'?" Mr. Stevens suggested. + +"Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, pausing in the act of filling the +glasses, "that's rather a--a low song, ain't it? What do you think, Mr. +Jenkins?" + +"Low?" answered Mr. Jenkins, "it's as low as--as mud, sir. I might say +it's infernal vulgar--what?" + +"Why, I don't care for it myself," Mr. Stevens admitted rather humbly, +"it was merely a suggestion." + +"With your good favour," said Mr. Brimberly, after a tentative sip at +his glass, "I'll sing you a old song as was a rare favourite of my +father's." + +"Why, then," said Mr. Jenkins, taking up his banjo, "oblige us with the +key." + +"The key, sir?" answered Mr. Brimberly, pulling down his waistcoat, +"what key might you mean?" + +"The key of the note dominant, Brim." + +Mr. Brimberly stared and felt for his whisker. + +"Note dominant," he murmured; "I don't think my song has anything of +that sort--" + +"Oh, well, just whistle a couple o' bars." + +"Bars," said Mr. Brimberly, shaking his head, "bars, sir, is things +wherewith I do not 'old; bars are the 'aunt of the 'umble 'erd, sir--" + +"No, no, Brim," explained Mr. Stevens, "Jenk merely means you to 'um the +air." + +"Ah, to be sure, now I appre'end! I'll 'um you the hair with pleasure." + +Mr. Brimberly cleared his throat vigorously and thereafter emitted +certain rumbling noises, whereat Mr. Jenkins cocked a knowing head. + +"C sharp, I think?" he announced. + +"Not much, Jenk!" said Mr. Stevens decidedly, "it was D flat--as flat a +D as ever I heard!" + +"It was C!" Mr. Jenkins said, "I appeal to Brim." + +"Well," said Mr. Brimberly ponderously, "I'm reether inclined to think I +made it a D--if it wasn't D it was F nat'ral. But if it's all the same +to you, I'll accompany myself at the piano-forty." + +"What," exclaimed Mr. Stevens, emptying and refilling his glass, seeing +which Mr. Jenkins did the same, "what--do you play, Brim?" + +"By hear, sir--only by hear," said Mr. Brimberly modestly, as, having +placed bottle and glass upon the piano within convenient reach, he +seated himself upon the stool, struck three or four stumbling chords and +then, vamping an accompaniment a trifle monotonous as to bass, burst +forth into song: + +"It was a rich merchant that in London did dwell, + He had but one daughter, a beautiful gell, + Which her name it was Dinah, scarce sixteen years old, + She'd a very large fortune in silver and gold." + +Chorus: + +"Ri tooral ri tooral ri tooral i-day, + Ri tooral ri tooral ri tooral i-day." + +It was now that Mr. Ravenslee, his rough clothes replaced by immaculate +attire, entered unostentatiously, and, wholly unobserved by the company, +seated himself and lounged there while Mr. Brimberly sang blithely on: + +"As Dinah was a-walking in her garden one day, + Her father came to her and thus he did say: + 'Come wed yourself, Dinah, to your nearest of kin, + Or you shan't have the benefit of one single pin!'" + + "Ri tooral ri too--" + +Here Mr. Jenkins, chancing to catch sight of that unobtrusive figure, +let fall his banjo with a clatter, whereupon Mr. Brimberly glancing +around, stopped short in the middle of a note, and sat open-mouthed, +staring at his master. + +"Enjoying a musical evening, Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly blundered to his feet, choked, gasped, groped for his +whiskers, and finally spoke: + +"Why, sir, I--I'm afraid I--we are--" + +"I didn't know you were such an accomplished musician, Brimberly." + +"Mu-musician, sir?" Brimberly stammered, his eyes goggling; "'ardly +that, sir, oh, 'ardly that, I--I venture to--to tinkle a bit now an' +then, sir--no offence I 'ope, sir?" + +"Friends musical too, it seems." + +"Y-yes, sir, music do affect 'em, sir--uncommonly, sir." + +"Yes, makes them thirsty, doesn't it?" + +"Why, Mr. Ravenslee, sir, I--that is, we did so far venture to--er--I +mean--oh, Lord!" and mopping perspiring brow, Mr. Brimberly groaned and +goggled helplessly from Mr. Jenkins who stood fumbling with his banjo to +Mr. Stevens who gaped fishlike. + +"And now," said Young R., having viewed them each in turn, "if +these--er--very thirsty musicians have had enough of--er--my wine +to--er--drink, perhaps you'll be so obliging as to see them--off the +premises?" + +"I--I beg parding, sir?" + +"Please escort your friends off the premises." + +"Certingly, sir--at once, sir--" + +"Unless you think you ought to give them each a handful of my cigars--" + +But Mr. Brimberly had already bundled his dazed guests to the door, out +of the door, and out of the house, with very little ceremony. + +It was a very deferential and officiously eager Brimberly who presently +knocked and, bowing very frequently, begged to know how he might be of +further service. + +"Might I get you a little supper, sir? We 'ave 'am, sir, we 'ave beef, +cold, salmon and cucumber likewise cold, a ditto chicken--" + +"That sounds rather a quaint bird," said Ravenslee. + +"Yes, sir, very good, sir, chicken an' a nice slice of 'am, sir, say, +and--" + +"Thank you, Brimberly, I dined late." + +"Why then, sir, a sandwich or so, pray permit me, sir, cut nice an' +thin, sir--" + +"Thank you--no." + +"Dear, dear! Why then, sir, whisky? Brandy? A lick-your?" + +"Nothing." + +"A cigar, sir?" + +"Hum! Have we any of the Garcias left?" + +"Y-yes, sir. Ho, certingly, sir. Shall I--" + +"Don't bother, I prefer my pipe; only let me know when we get short, +Brimberly, and we'll order more--or perhaps you have a favourite brand?" + +"Brand, sir," murmured Brimberly, "a--er--certingly, sir." + +"Good night, Brimberly." + +"Good night, sir, but first can't I do--hanything?" + +"Oh, yes, you do me, of course. You do me so consistently and well that +I really ought to raise your wages. I'll think about it." + +Mr. Brimberly stared, coughed, and fumbled for his whisker, whence his +hand wandered to his brow and hovered there. + +"I--I bid you good night, sir!" + +"Oh, by the way, bring me the letters." + +"Certingly, sir!" and crossing the room, Mr. Brimberly returned, bearing +a salver piled high with letters, which he set at his master's elbow; +this done, he bowed and went from the room, one hand still at his dazed +brow. + +Left alone, Ravenslee took up the letters one by one. Some he threw +aside, some few he opened and glanced at carelessly; among these last +was a telegram, and the words he saw were these: + +"Meet me to-morrow sunset in the wood all shall be explained Hermy." + +For a while he sat staring at this, then, laying it by, drew out a +letter case from which he took another telegram bearing precisely the +same message. Having compared them, he thrust them into his pocket, and +filling his pipe, sat awhile smoking and lost in thought. At last, his +pipe being out, he rose, stretched, and turned toward the door, but in +the act of leaving the room, paused to take out and compare the +telegrams again and so stood with puckered brow. + +"'Hermy!'" he said softly. "'Hermione' is so much prettier. 'All shall +be explained.' A little trite, perhaps! Oh, well--" So saying, he folded +up the telegrams, switched off the lights and went to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +OF TRAGEDY + + +It was close on the hour of sunset when Ravenslee stopped his car before +a quiet hotel in Englewood and sprang out. + +"Will you be long, sir?" enquired Joe, seating himself at the wheel and +preparing to turn into the garage. + +"Probably an hour, Joe." + +"Very good, sir." + +But as the big car turned, Ravenslee spoke over his shoulder. + +"By the way, if I shouldn't be back in an hour, come and meet me." Then, +having given Joe full and particular directions as to the little wood, +he turned and went upon his way. + +It had been a stifling day, and even now, though a soft air was abroad +tempering the humid heat, when this light wind languished there was over +all things a brooding stillness, foreboding storm. But Ravenslee strode +on, unheeding dust and heat, hastening on to that which awaited him, +full of strength and life and the zest of life, glad-hearted, and with +pulses that throbbed in expectation. Thus, as the sun sank in fiery +splendour, he reached the little wood. Evening was falling, and already, +among the trees, shadows were deepening to twilight, but in the west was +a flaming glory; and, upon the edge of the wood he turned to glance back +at this radiance, splashes of gold and pink flushing to an ominous red. +For a long moment he stood to stare around about the solitary +countryside, joying in life and the glory of it. Then he turned, with a +smile on his lips, and stepped into the gloom of the wood. On he went, +forcing his way through the under-brush until, reaching the clearing, he +halted suddenly and faced about, fancying he had heard a rustle in the +leaves hard by. Spike, cowering behind a bush with M'Ginnis's fingers +gripping his arm, shivered and sweated and held his breath until +Ravenslee moved on again, and, coming to a fallen tree, seated himself +there and sat chin on fist, expectation in every tense line of him. + +"Now!" whispered M'Ginnis hoarsely, "get him now--before Hermy comes t' +him!" Shuddering, Spike levelled the weapon he held, but at that moment +Ravenslee was filling his pipe, and something in this homely action +checked the lad, paralysed finger on trigger, and shrinking, he cowered +down upon the grass despite the fierce hand that gripped him. "Get him +now, Kid--get him now! Aim f'r his chest--y' can't miss at this +distance--" + +"I--I can't, Bud!" gasped the boy, writhing, "I can't do it--I can't!" +Dropping the revolver, he hid his face in sweating hands and shivered. + +From somewhere near by a woodpecker was tapping busily, but save for +this no sound broke the pervading stillness, for the gentle wind had +died away. But suddenly the quiet was rent and shivered, and Spike, +deafened by the report, glanced up to see Ravenslee rise to his feet, +stagger forward blindly, then, with arms outflung, pitch forward upon +his face and lie there. + +"By God, you--you've shot him, Bud!" he whimpered, "you--you've killed +dear old Geoff--oh, my God!" + +"Aw, quit--quit all that!" whispered M'Ginnis breathlessly, "that's what +we came for, ain't it? What you lookin' at?" + +"It lays so--still! so awful still!" Spike gasped. + +"Well, what ye got t' go starin' at it that ways for? Come on--let's +beat it; it's us for th' quick get-away in case any one heard. Come on, +Kid!" + +"But you've--killed Geoff!" + +"I guess he don't need no more--'n' say, Kid, you're in on this job +too, don't forget! Come on, it's little old N' York for ours!" + +Though M'Ginnis dragged at him, Spike huddled limply on his knees, his +glaring eyes always staring in the one direction; whereupon M'Ginnis +cursed and left him. + +But all at once, finding himself alone, to horror came fear, and +stumbling to his feet Spike began to draw away from that awful thing +that held his gaze; slowly he retreated, always going backwards, and +though he stumbled often against tree and sapling, yet so long as it was +in sight needs must he walk backwards. When at last a kindly bush hid it +from his sight, he turned and ran--ran until, panting and wild-eyed, he +burst from the wood and was out upon the open road. Even then he paused +to stare back into that leafy gloom but saw and heard nothing. Then, +uttering a moan, he turned and ran sobbing along the darkening road. + +But, within that place of shadows, from amid the leaves of a certain +great tree, dropped one who came beside that motionless form, and knelt +there awhile. When at last he rose, a ring lay upon his open palm--a +ring in the shape of two hands clasping each other; then, with this +clenched in a pallid fist, he also turned and left that still and awful +thing with its face hidden in last year's dead and rotting leaves. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +OF REMORSE + + +For three miserable days Spike had remained indoors, eating little, +sleeping less, venturing abroad only at dusk to hurry back with the +latest paper and, locked within his bedroom, to scan every scare head +and column with eyes dilating in dreadful expectation of beholding the +awful word--MURDER. + +For three interminable days Hermione, going about her many duties slow +of foot and listless, had scarcely heeded him, conscious only of her own +pain, the agony of longing, the yearning ache that filled her, throbbing +in every heart-beat--an ache that would not be satisfied. Thus, lost in +her own new sorrow, she spoke seldom, sighed often, and sang not at all; +often sitting at her sewing machine with hands strangely idle and gaze +abstracted. Spike, watching furtively, had seen her eyes brim over with +great, slow-falling tears; more than once he had heard her bitter +weeping in the dawn. At such times he had yearned to comfort her, but +between them was memory, dividing them like a wall--the memory of a +still form with arms wide-tossed and face hidden among dead leaves. And +at such times Spike writhed in the grip of horror and groaned under the +gnawing fangs of remorse; sometimes he prayed wild, passionate prayers, +and sometimes he wetted his pillow with unavailing tears, while in his +ears, like a small voice, soft and insistent, repeated over and over +again, was the dread word MURDER. By day it haunted him also; it stared +up at him from the white cloth of the breakfast table, forbidding him +to eat; he read it on floor and walls and ceiling; he saw it in bloody +characters that straggled across the very sky; wherever he turned his +haggard gaze there he needs must read it. + +And then--there were the footsteps. All day long they tramped up and +down the stairs outside--everyday sounds that he had never heeded +before, but now they were warnings to hearken to and shudder at, and he +would sit pretending to read but with ears straining for the sound of +feet upon the landing or on the stair. Now they were feet that +crept--the stealthy steps of one that lurked to catch him unaware; or +again, they were the loud tramp of those who came with authority to drag +him to doom, and he would watch the door, staring wide-eyed, waiting for +the thundering knock he expected yet which never came. All day long they +haunted him, and at night, locked within his bedroom, he must needs lift +heavy head from the pillow to hearken with ears straining even yet, +until, haggard and worn, he had shivered and groaned and wept himself to +sleep, only to awake and start up in sweating terror, thinking he heard +a fierce hand knocking, knocking upon the outer door. + +Thus, for three long days Spike had lived in torment, and to-night, as +he leaned throbbing head between clutching hands, his haggard eyes +sought vainly for that fell word which he could read everywhere except +in the newspaper before him; his sufferings had grown almost beyond his +strength, for to his old torments was added harrowing suspense. + +"Why?" "Why?" "Why" was the word that stared at him from ceiling and +walls and blue expanse of heaven; why was it there and not in the +papers? Could it be that it was lying there yet, that awful, still +thing, lying as he remembered it, as he could see it now, its ghastly +features hidden among the leaves that rotted, its long arms outflung and +strong hands griped among the grass with clutching fingers--could it +be?-- + +"Arthur--boy--what's the matter?" + +Spike started and looked up to find Hermione beside him, and +instinctively he shrank away. + +"Arthur--oh, what is it? Are you sick?" + +"N-no, why?" + +"You were moaning." + +"Oh, well, I--I'm all right, I guess. Got a headache, that's all." + +"Why have you avoided me lately, Arthur? I'm not angry any more, I'm +only--disappointed." + +"Y' mean because I lost me job? They don't want my kind; I--oh, I'm too +mean--too rotten, I guess." + +"I heard you cry out in the night, Arthur. What was it?" + +"Nothin'--I didn't cry out las' night, I tell ye." + +"I heard you!" + +"Oh, well, I--I was only dreamin', I guess." + +"Why have you acted so strangely lately? You don't eat, you don't go +out; you sit around staring and seem to be listening--almost as if you +were afraid--" + +"I ain't--I ain't afraid. Who says I'm afraid? An' I don't want you to +go worryin' y'self sick over me--I ain't a kid no more." + +"No, I'm afraid you're not." And sighing, she turned away. But as she +crossed the room, her step slow and listless, he spoke, his head +down-bent and face hidden between clenched hands, voicing, almost +despite himself, the questions that had tortured him so long. + +"Say, Hermy, where's--Geoff? How is he--I mean you--you ain't--heard +anything--have you?" + +"No," she answered softly, without turning, "what should I hear? I only +know he's--gone. How should I hope to hear anything any more?" + +"I--I thought he was--goin' t' marry you." + +"So he was, but I--couldn't let him--marry--a thief's sister," she said +in the same low, even voice. + +"Ah!" cried Spike, writhing, "why did he go an' tell ye about me after +he told me he never would--why did he tell ye?" + +"He didn't tell me!" cried Hermione, with curling lip. + +"Didn't he--oh--didn't he?" said Spike, his voice high and quivering, +"didn't Geoff tell ye? Then--say, Hermy, who--who did?" + +"It was Bud M'Ginnis, and for once it seems he told the truth!" + +"Bud!" cried Spike, stumbling to his feet. "Oh, my God!" At sound of +his voice she turned, and seeing his face, cried out in sudden fear: +"Arthur--oh, Arthur, what is it?" + +"Bud told ye?" he gasped. "Wasn't it Geoff--oh, wasn't it Geoff?" + +"No!" + +Spike was down on his knees. "Oh, God! Oh, Geoff--dear old Geoff, +forgive me!" He was huddled upon the floor, his face pressed to the +worn rug, his clenched fingers buried in his curls, while from his +lips issued gasping sobs harshly dry and awful to hear. + +"Forgive me, Geoff, forgive me! I thought you told her! I thought you +meant t' steal her from me! Oh, forgive me, Geoff--I wish I was dead +like you." + +"Arthur!" + +She was down beside him on her knees, shaking him with desperate hands. + +"Arthur! Arthur! What--are you saying?" + +"Nothin'--nothin'!" he stammered, staring up into her face, suddenly +afraid of her. "Nothin', I--I was only--thinkin'--I--" + +"What did you mean?" she cried, her grasp tightening. "Tell me what you +meant--tell me, tell me!" + +"Nothin'," he mumbled, trying to break her hold. "Lemme go, I--I didn't +mean anything--" + +"Tell me what you meant--tell me, tell me!" + +"No--I can't--I--" + +His voice failed suddenly, his whole frame grew tense and rigid, and +lifting a stiff arm he pointed a trembling finger toward the open +doorway. + +"Hush--hush!" he panted, "oh, for God's sake, hush! There--don't you +hear--there's some one outside on th' landing--footsteps--hark! They're +coming to our door! They're stoppin' outside--oh, my God, it's come +at--" + +The word ended in a scream, drowned all at once in a thunderous knocking +on the outer door, and Spike, crouching upon his knees, clutched at her +as she rose. + +"Don't,--don't open--the door!" he gasped, while Hermione gazed at him, +terrified by his terror, as again the thunderous summons was heard. +Then, despite the boy's passionate prayers and desperate, clutching +hands, she broke from him, and hastening into the little passage, opened +the door. + +Upon the threshold stood a little old man, very smartly dressed, who +saluted her with a gallant flourish of his dapper straw hat and bowed +with his two small and glittering patent leather shoes posed at position +number one in waltzing. + +"Ma'am," said he, "miss, respectful greetin's. Your name's Hermione, +ain't it?" + +"Yes," she answered, wondering. + +"Knowed it was. And a partic'ler fine gal too! Though not 'oldin' wi' +marridge, I don't blame the Guv--'e always 'ad a quick eye for +beauty--like me." + +"But who are you? What do you want--" + +"Miss, I want you--leastways--'e does. Been callin' for you the last +three days 'e has, ever since 'e ketched one as fair doubled 'im up--" + +"I--I don't understand. Who are you?" + +"A admirer of the Guv, ma'am. A trusted friend of 'is, miss--come t' +take ye to 'is poor, yearnin' arms, lady--" + +"But who--oh, what do you mean?" + +"Mr. Ravenslee, ma'am." + +"Mr. Ravenslee!" she echoed, her colour changing. + +"Yes. Y' see--he's dyin', miss!" + +Hermione gasped and leaned against the wall as if suddenly faint and +sick, perceiving which, the Old Un promptly set his arm about her waist +and led her unresisting into the parlour. There, having aided her +tenderly into a chair and nodded to pale-faced Spike, he sighed, shook +his ancient head, and continued: + +"Ho, Lor lumme, lady, it fair wrung my old 'eart to 'ave to tell ye, +but, 'aving to tell ye (Joe couldn't) I told ye almighty quick to get it +over--sharp an' quick's my motter. Fate's crool 'ard when Fate takes the +gloves off, miss, an' I know as Fate's been an' took ye one in the wind +wot's fair doubled you up--but take time, miss, take time--throw back +your pretty 'ead, breathe deep an' reg'lar, an' you'll soon be strong +enough to go another round. If I'd got a towel handy I'd fan ye a +bit--not 'avin' none, no matter. Fate's 'ard on you, so fair an' young, +miss, but Fate's been 'arder on the Guv--ketched the pore young Guv a +fair spiflicator--" + +"Oh, please--please," cried Hermione, reaching out appealing hands, "oh, +tell me, is he hurt--sick--dying? Oh, quick, quick--tell me!" + +"Lady, ma'am--my pretty dear," said the Old Un, taking those pleading +hands to pat them tenderly, "that's what I'm tryin' to do. The Guv +ain't dead yet--no, not--yet--" + +"You mean he's dying?" + +"My dear," said the old man, blinking at her through sudden tears, +"that's what the doctors say." Here he loosed one hand to rub at each +bright eye with a bony knuckle. "An' 'im so young--so game an' +strong--three days ago." + +"How--did it--happen?" she questioned, her voice low and steady. + +"It was Fate!" said the old man, taking her hand again. "Three days ago +Fate (the perisher) sends him a telegram--two on 'em--tellin' 'im to +meet you in a wood an' signed with--with your name, both on 'em--" + +At this she cried out and would have risen, but his kindly clasp checked +her. + +"I--sent no telegram!" she whispered. + +"Me an' Joe an' the Spider know that now, miss. But anyway, to this 'ere +wood the Guv do 'aste away, an' in this wood Fate's a-layin' for 'im +wir a gun, an' down goes the pore Guv wi' a perishin' bullet in 'is +gizzard. An' there Joe finds 'im, an' 'ome Joe brings 'im in the car, +an' Joe an' me an' the Spider 'ushes things up. An' now in bed lays the +Guv with nurses an' doctors 'anging over 'im--a-callin' for you--I mean +the Guv, d' ye see? So now for you I've come. I've brought Joe an' the +car for you--Joe's across wi' Mrs. Trapes, an' the car's below--both +waitin'. So you'll come t' th' pore young Guv, miss, won't ye, lady?" + +"Have you--any idea--who--did it?" she questioned, speaking as with an +effort. + +"We got our suspicions, ho, yus!" the Old Un nodded. "Joe's got a +wonnerful gift o' suspicion--oh, a rare 'ead 'as my lad Joe. Joe an' +the Spider's on the track, an' they're goin' to track Fate to doom, +ma'am--to perishin' doom! Y' see," here the old man leaned suddenly +nearer, "y' see, Joe's found a cloo!" + +"A clew! Yes--yes!" she whispered breathlessly, moistening lips suddenly +dry, and conscious that Spike's lax form had stiffened to painful +alertness. + +"Well, ma'am, Joe an' the Spider's been a-seekin' an' a-searchin' of +that there wood, an' they found," here the Old Un leaned nearer yet and +whispered harshly, "they found--a coat button! Lorgorramighty!" he +exclaimed suddenly, pointing a trembling bony finger, "what's took th' +lad--look!" + +Spike had risen and now stood, breathing loudly, one hand clenched upon +his breast, and turning swiftly, took a stumbling pace toward the open +window, tripped, and fell prone upon his face. + +"Oh, poor lad, poor lad!" cried the Old Un, rising hastily. "Fate's +been an' ketched him one too--a fair knock-out! Leave him to me, miss, +I'll bring 'im round--bitin' 'is years is good, or vinegar on a +sponge--leave 'im to a old fightin' man--" + +"No!" cried Hermione passionately, "no, I say. Leave him to me!" Quelled +by something in her tone and manner, the old man sank back in his chair, +while she, kneeling beside Spike, lifted him in her strong young arms so +that he was hidden from the Old Un's bright, piercing eyes. Holding him +thus, she loosed Spike's rigid fingers and drew away that clutching +hand; then, seeing what that hand had striven to hide, she shrank +suddenly away, letting the boy's inanimate form slip from her clasp; +and, as she knelt there above him, her shapely body was seized with +fierce tremors. + +So she knelt for a long moment until Spike sighed, shivered, and sat up, +but beholding the look in her wide eyes, uttered a hoarse sound that was +like a cry of fear and, starting from her nearness, crouched down, +huddled upon his knees. + +Then Hermione rose and, turning to the old man, smiled with pallid lips. + +"You see--he's all right--now!" she said. "If you'll please go and tell +Mrs. Trapes I'm leaving, I'll get ready." Obediently the Old Un rose. + +"Mrs. Trapes is a-gettin' into her bonnet to come along wi' us!" said +he, and putting on his hat with a flourish, took his departure. When he +was gone, Hermione turned and looked down at Spike, who, meeting her +eyes, flinched as from a blow and made no effort to rise from his knees. +So she packed her grip and dressed for the journey, while he watched her +with eyes of mute appeal. Twice he would have spoken, but her look smote +him to silence. At last, as she took up her suit case and turned to go, +he implored her in a hoarse whisper, reaching out his arms to her: +"Hermy!" + +But she shrank from his contact and, hastening from the room and along +the little passage, closed the door and left him to his hopeless misery. +As one in a dream she followed the old man down the stairs, was aware of +his ushering her through the crowd of women and children who thronged +about the big car. As one in a dream she found herself seated beside +Mrs. Trapes, whose motherly solicitude she heeded no more than the +bustle and traffic of the streets through which the swift car whirled +her on and on until, turning, it swung in between massive gates and +pulled up before a great, gloomy house. + +As one in a dream she ascended the broad steps, crossed a stately hall, +was ushered up a noble stairway and along thick-carpeted corridors until +at last she found herself in a darkened chamber where, his dark head +conspicuous upon the white pillow, he lay. A nurse rose from beside the +bed as Hermione entered and softly withdrew. Left alone, she stood for +a long moment utterly still, her hands tightly clasped, her breath in +check, gazing at that dark head upon the pillow, at that outstretched +form lying so silent and so very still. + +"Hermione!" + +A feeble whisper, a sigh faintly breathed, but at the sound she had +crossed the wide chamber on feet swift and noiseless, had sunk upon her +knees beside the low bed to lean above him all murmurous love and +sighing tenderness, while she stole a timid hand to touch the hair that +curled upon his pallid brow; then, for all his helplessness, she flushed +beneath his look. + +"How beautiful--you are!" he said faintly, "and I--weak as--confounded +rat! Hermione--love, they tell me I--must die. But first I want you +for--my very own if only for--a little while!" + +"Oh, my dear," she whispered, soft mouth against his pale cheek, "I +always was yours--yours from the very first; I always shall be." + +"Then you'll--marry me?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"I--hoped you would, so--I arranged--minister's waiting now. Will +you--ring?" And he motioned feebly toward an electric bell-push that +stood upon a small table beside the bed. + +And now once again as one in a dream she obeyed, and was presently aware +of soft-treading figures about her in the dim chamber--among them the +Old Un whose shoes for once creaked not at all. As one in a dream she +made the responses, felt the feeble clasp of that hand whose strength +and masterful power had thrilled her, heard the faint echo of that loved +voice that had wooed her so passionately once, yet wooed in vain, while +now-- + +She was alone again, alone with him who lay so very still and pale with +eyes closed wearily; from him she glanced to that which gleamed so +bright and new upon her finger and bending her head she pressed the +wedding ring to her lips. + +"Wife!" he whispered; the weary eyes were open, and his look drew her. +So she knelt beside the bed again, stooping above him low and lower +until her head lay beside his upon the pillow. Slowly, slowly his feeble +hand crept up to her glowing cheek, to the soft waves of her hair, and +to the little curl that wantoned above her eyebrow. + +"Hermione--wife--kiss me!" + +Tenderly her arms enfolded him, and with a soft little cry that was half +a sob she kissed him, his brow, his hair, his lips, kissed him even +while she wetted him with her falling tears. + +"Beloved," he murmured, "my glorious--scrubwoman--if I must--leave +you--these dear hands need never--never slave again. Never--any--more, +my Hermione." + +Long after he had fallen to sleep she knelt there, cradling his weakness +in her arms, looking down on him with eyes bright with love. + +After this were days and nights when the soul of him wandered in dark +places filled with chaotic dreams and wild fancies; but there was ever +one beside him whose gentle voice reached him in the darkness, and whose +tender hand hushed his delirium and soothed his woes and troubles. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE CAME OUT OF THE DARK + + +She was knitting; and opening sleepy eyes he watched drowsily and +wondered what it might be and was minded to enquire, but sighed instead +and fell asleep again. + +She was knitting; knitting something in red wool, and opening his eyes +again, he lay watching awhile and pondered dreamily as to what it could +be she wrought at so busily, for the wool was so very red and so +extremely woolly. + +Her chin was set at an angle somewhat grim, she was sitting very +upright in her chair and, though scrupulously hidden from sight, her +elbows--truly how portentous were the undisguisable points of those +elbows! And she was knitting fiercely in wool that was remarkably red +and woolly. + +"Pray what is it, Mrs. Trapes?" A feeble whisper, but, at the sound, +faint though it was, Mrs. Trapes started, half rose from her chair, sank +down again heavily and letting fall her knitting, stared at the invalid. + +"Land sakes, alive!" she gasped. + +"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee, his voice a little stronger. + +"Oh, dear beloved land o' my fathers--it's come!" she exclaimed, +clasping her hands, "the Lord be praised for evermore, it's come!" + +"What has?" + +"The turn! And you've took it! Doctor Dennison says last night as you'd +take it soon one way or t' other. But all night long while they waited +and watched here, you've laid so pale an' still as a corp'. An' now, +while I'm a-settin' here, you go an' take th' turn so sudden as fair +takes my breath away, Lord be praised! I mean--I mean--oh, I guess I'll +go wake the doctor." + +"But you haven't told me what it is," said Ravenslee drowsily. + +"What what is?" + +"That very peculiar--woolly thing." + +"This?" said Mrs. Trapes, picking up the object in question, "this is my +knittin'. Doctor said t' call him th' moment th' turn came--" Her voice +seemed to sink to a slumberous murmur as, having smoothed his pillow, +she crossed the room and very softly closed the door behind her; +wherefore Ravenslee blinked sleepily at the door until its panels seemed +slowly to become confused and merge one into another, changing gradually +to a cloud, soft, billowy, and ever growing until it had engulfed him +altogether, and he sank down and down into unknown deeps of +forgetfulness and blessed quietude. + + * * * * * + +She was knitting; knitting a shapeless something in red wool, and +Ravenslee thought he had never known her elbows more threatening of +aspect nor seen wool quite so red and woolly; wherefore he presently +spoke, and his voice was no longer a feeble croak. + +"Pray what is it, Mrs. Trapes?" + +Mrs. Trapes jumped. + +"Well, for th' love o' heaven!" she exclaimed, and down fell her +knitting. + +"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee a little petulantly. + +"Your very--identical--words!" said Mrs. Trapes in awed tones. "Nacher +sure 'moves in a mysterious way her wonders to perform'!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean as them was the identical words as you addressed to me when you +took th' turn two days ago!" + +"Two days!" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring. + +"Ever since you did take the turn two days ago, you've laid there so +quiet an' peaceful--no more dreams an' ravin'--you've jest laid there +'wrapped in infant slumbers pure an' light', Mr. Geoffrey--Ravenslee, +I mean." + +"Why then, it's about time I got up. If you'll kindly--er--retire and +send Patterson, I'll get dressed." + +"Dressed?" echoed Mrs. Trapes, hollow-voiced and grim. "Get up? Lord, +Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"Certainly. Why not?" + +"What, you--you as is only jest out o' the valley o' th' shadder! You +as we've all give up for dead over an' over! You get up? Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey--I mean Ravenslee!" + +"Oh," said Ravenslee, knitting his dark brows thoughtfully, "have I been +sick long?" + +"Four weeks." + +"Weeks!" he exclaimed, staring incredulously. + +"Four weeks an' a bit! For four weary, woeful weeks you've been layin' +here with death hoverin' over you, Mr. Geoffrey. For four long weeks +we've been waitin' for ye t' draw your las' breath, Mr. Ravenslee. For +four 'eart-rendin' weeks your servants has been carryin' on below stairs +an' robbin' you somethin' shameful." + +"My servants? Oh, yes, they generally do. But tell me--" + +"The amount o' food as they consoom constant! The waste! The +extravagance! Th' beer an' wine an' sperrits they swaller! Them is sure +the thirstiest menials ever I heard tell of! An' the butler--such airs, +such a appetite! An' sherry an' bitters t' make it worse! Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey, your servants sure is a ravenin' horde!" + +"Don't be too hard on 'em, Mrs. Trapes," he answered gravely, "I'm +afraid I've neglected them quite a good deal. But it's a woman's hand +they need over them." + +"It's a pleeceman's club they need on 'em--frequent! I'd learn 'em +different, I guess--" + +"So you shall, Mrs. Trapes, if you will. You are precisely the kind of +housekeeper I need." + +"What--me?" + +"You, Mrs. Trapes. A lonely bachelor needs some one to--er take care of +his servants for him, to see they don't overeat themselves too often; +or--er--strain themselves spring-cleaning out of season--or--" + +"But you got a wife t' do all that for you. I guess Hermy'll know how to +manage." + +"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, starting, "wife? Am I really--married?" + +"Sure! Didn't she go an' let you wed her when we all thought you was +dyin'?" + +"Oh, did she?" said he very gently. "Why then, it--it wasn't all a +dream?" + +"Mr. Geoffrey, Hermy's been Mrs. Ravenslee, your lawful wedded wife, +just exactly four weeks." + +Ravenslee stared up at the ceiling, dreamy-eyed. + +"Good heavens!" he murmured. "I thought I'd only dreamed it." + +"Hermy's watched over you night an' day a'most--like th' guardian angel +she is--prayin' f' you, workin' f' you, fightin' death away from you. +Oh, I guess it's her fault as you're alive this day! Anyway, her an' +you's man an' wife till death do you part." + +"But death--hasn't, you see." + +"An' death sure ain't goin' to--yet." + +"No, I'm--I'm very much alive still, it seems." + +"You sure are, glory be t' th' Lord of Hosts to who I have also +petitioned frequent on your behoof. An' now I'll call th' doctor." + +"No, no--not Dennison; let me see her first. Can't I speak to Hermione +first, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"She was up with you all las' night, sweet lamb! It'd be a shame to wake +her--" + +"So it would--don't disturb her." + +"But I guess she'd never forgive me if I didn't wake her. So if you'll +promise t' be good--" + +"I will!" + +"An' not go gettin' all worked up an' excited?" + +"I will not!" + +"Why then, perhaps ten minutes wouldn't hurt." + +"God bless you, Mrs. Trapes!" + +Left alone, he tried to sit up, and finding this strangely difficult, +examined his hands and arms, scowling to find himself so weak. Then he +clapped hand to bony jaw and was shocked to feel thereon a growth of +ragged beard, and then--she was before him. Fresh from her slumbers she +came, wrapped in a scanty kimono whose thin, clinging folds revealed +more of her shapely beauty than he had ever seen as she hurried across +the wide chamber. + +"Hermione," he said, and reached out his hands to her. And his voice +was no longer the feeble echo it had been; the hand that clasped hers, +though still thin and weak, thrilled her anew with its masterful touch. +Because of all this, her words of tender greeting remained unspoken, the +arms which had been eager to cradle his helplessness crossed themselves +on her bosom; she became aware of naked ankles and of bare feet thrust +into bedroom slippers and needs must hide them, and the better to do so, +sank upon the bed, her feet tucked under her. So she sat, just beyond +his reach, and, conscious of scanty draperies, shook her shining hair +about her, veiling herself in its glory. + +"Hermione," he said unsteadily, "I--I never knew quite how beautiful you +were--and we--we are married, it seems!" + +"Yes," she said softly. + +"And now I'm--I'm afraid I'm going to--live!" + +"Afraid?" + +"It--it almost seems as though I had married you under false pretences, +doesn't it? But the doctors and everybody were so certain I was to die +that I thought so too. And now--I'm going to live, it seems." + +She was silent, and slowly his hand went out to her again, and slowly +hers went to meet it, but though her fingers clasped and twined, +thrilling in mute passion to his touch, she came no nearer, but watched +him from the shadow of her hair with great troubled eyes. + +"Dear," he said, very humbly, "you do--love me still, don't you?" + +"More than ever." + +"Then you're not--sorry to be my wife?" + +"No--ah, no, no!" she whispered, "never that!" + +"Then, dear, won't you--will you kiss me?" Seeing she hesitated, he +sank back on his pillow and laughed a little ruefully. "I forgot these +confounded whiskers--I must look an unholy object. Patterson shall shave +me, and then perhaps--" + +But sudden and warm and soft her arms were about him, and her eyes, +troubled no longer, gazed into his, brimful of yearning tenderness. + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," she murmured, quick and passionate, "as if I +should ever care how you looked as long as you were--just you. My dear, +my dear, you have come back to me from the very gates of death because +I--I--" + +"Because you nursed me so tenderly!" + +"Ah, no, there were others to do that--no, God gave you back to me +because He is merciful, and because I love you--want you--need you so +much!" + +"Oh, my Hermione--Kiss me!" + +A knock at the door, and, quick-breathing, she drew from him as the +voice of Mrs. Trapes reached them. + +"Ten minutes is up!" she announced as she entered, "and Hermy, if you +don't want th' doctor t' see you in your nightdress an' that--" + +"Ann!" gasped Hermione, drawing the folds of her kimono about her. + +"Anyway, he's coming." + +Up sprang Hermione, in doing which she lost a slipper. + +"Give it me!" she pleaded, for Ravenslee had caught it up. + +"Dear, you have one--be content," he answered. "And surely I may kiss +my wife's slipper without you having to blush so--so deliciously, +Hermione?" + +"It's so--old and shabby!" said she faintly. + +"That's why I kiss it." + +"An' here comes th' doctor!" said Mrs. Trapes. Whereat Hermione +incontinent fled away, white foot agleam. Then Ravenslee, having kissed +the little slipper quite brazenly under Mrs. Trapes's staring eyes, +tucked it beneath his pillow. + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey!" said Mrs. Trapes. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +CONCERNING A CLEW + + +"Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee, laying aside the book he had been reading +and letting his glance wander across smooth lawns and clipped yew +hedges, "Mrs. Trapes, what about that stewed shin of beef with carrots +and onions you prepared for--our wedding supper?" + +"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her everlasting knitting, +"which you never stopped to eat." + +"Which omission I will now haste to rectify. Mrs. Trapes, pray go and +get it ready--I'm ravenous!" + +"Good f'r you!" said Mrs. Trapes; "in about half an hour you shall have +a nice cup of beef tea to raven at--" + +"Confounded slops!" growled Ravenslee. + +"Doctor's orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, clicking her knitting needles. + +"Can't I have something to chew at?" + +"Sure. How'll a cracker soaked in milk soot?" + +"Cracker!" snarled Ravenslee. + +"Doctor's orders!" + +Ravenslee muttered and took up his book. + +"Helen who, did you say?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, glancing up. "Mr. +Geoffrey--I mean Ravenslee, I'm surprised at you--swearin' ain't good +for a invalid; your temperature'll be rose if you swear." + +"But, my dear Mrs. Trapes, I'm hungry, very hungry--darned hungry!" + +"Which is a sign as you're improvin' rapid. Beef tea'll be here soon." + +"I won't drink the stuff!" + +"Oh, but you will, when Hermy brings it." + +"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, his voice grown gentle, and laying down his +book again. "Mrs. Trapes, have you noticed any change in her lately?" + +"A bit handsomer, p'r'aps--" + +"Yes, but I don't mean that; it's something that puzzles me. She seems +to have grown more--more reserved and shy--" + +"Well, she was married to you before she knew it kind of, almost." + +"Do you suppose that's it?" + +"Sure! What you got t' do, Mr. Geoffrey, is--woo her! Woo her all you +know how. The best woman can't be wooed too hard nor too frequent--so +you start in an' woo." + +"But sometimes it has almost seemed that she--avoided me." + +"Well, don't let her." + +"Do you suppose she's grieving for Spike?" + +"Well, he ain't exactly a j'y t' her. There he is going straight to the +devil along o' that Bud M'Ginnis!" + +"I must go and fetch him as soon as I can get about again." + +"If he'll come." + +"Oh, he'll come," said Ravenslee grimly. "I've decided to send him to +college--" + +"If he'll go!" + +"Oh, he'll go--there's quite a lot of good in him, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Only it's mighty hard to find, Mr. Geoffrey! If that b'y wants t' go +t' th' devil, to th' devil he'll go. What you got t' do is t' make her +forget him--if you can. Oh, drat him, anyway!" and squaring her elbows, +Mrs. Trapes knitted so angrily that her knitting needles clashed like +weapons fiercely opposed. + +"Yes, but suppose she is grieving for him, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Why then," said Mrs. Trapes, "why then--oh, shucks--I guess I'll go an' +see after that beef tea." + +When she had gone, Ravenslee sat plunged in gloomy thought until roused +by the sound of approaching feet with a creak of shoes, a loud, arrogant +creak there was no mistaking, and the Old Un appeared followed by Joe +and the Spider, the latter looking very smart in his new livery. + +"Guv," said the Old Un, "best respex! 'Ere we be, come to say 'ow glad +we are t' see you come up smilin' an' ready for more after Fate ketchin' +ye a perishin' wallop as we all thought 'ad doubled ye up till the day +o' doom. 'Ere you are, on your pins again, an' 'ere 's us come t' give +ye greetin's doo an' j'y o' your marriage--shut up, Joe!" + +"Why, I wasn't speakin'!" growled Joe. + +"No, but you meant to--you're always meanin' to, you are. Guv," +continued the Old Un, "folks is allus a-givin' an' takin' in marriage in +this 'ere world, such bein' their natur'--they can't 'elp it! But never +in this world nor no other was there ever sich a weddin' as yours. There +was 'er so young an' fair an' full o' life, an' there was you so pale +an' nigh to death--one leg in the grave--an' there was me s' full o' +years an' wisdom an' sorrer for ye both--oh, my pore old bowels was fair +yearnin' over ye-" + +"Lord, Old Un," expostulated Joe, "you keep them bowels o' yours out of +it--" + +"Shut up, Joe, in your ignorance; bowels is in the Bible, an' bowels +I abide by now and forever, amen! Well, there we all were, Guv, bendin' +o'er your couch o' care very silent an' solemn, + +"'Not a drum was 'eard, not a funereal note' + +"an' there was you s' pale an' nigh t' death--" + +"You said all that afore, Old Un!" growled Joe. + +"You leave me alone, Joe," said the Old Un, scowling and flourishing a +trembling fist, "you lemme be, or you'll be pale an' nigh t' death next. +Well, there was you, Guv, an' all s' pale an' still when: ''Oo giveth +this woman?' says the parson-cove very solemn. 'That's me!' says I, +quick an' ready. An' so, me 'avin' 'elped t' marry you, I've brought +Joe an' Spider t' wish you 'ealth an' 'appiness an' a j'y continual. +Now, Joe, it's your round--speak up!" + +"Sir," said Joe heavily, "I--we--I mean--Lord, sir, I am that glad--ah, +glad as--as never was--" + +"That'll do for you, Joe!" snapped the Old Un. "Spider's round." + +Hereupon the Spider lurched forward, hunched his wide shoulders, took +off his smart cap, and stared at it very hard. + +"Bo," said he, chewing vigorously, "I mean boss--er--no, that ain't +right either--this is sure a bum start I'm makin'--" + +"Bo' will do, Spider," said Ravenslee, "let it go at that." + +"Why then, bo, I ain't one as is ever goin' t' win any gold-mounted +testimonials at any talk-fest or heart-throbbin' spiel-act, but what I +wanter tell you is this--an' I guess you know I ain't only breathin' out +puffs o' hot air--I want yer t' know as I feel about you like--like Joe +an' the Old Un does--an' then some more. Y' see, bo, though I ain't +never held a straight flush agin four aces an' don't expect to, though +I shan't ever be a world's champion like Joe here--I guess I know to-day +what it feels like, because you ain't goin' t' snuff it, after all--an' +now I guess you're on." Saying which, the Spider dexterously shifted +his wad to the other cheek and chewed faster than ever. + +"I am, Spider, and I want you to know I'm grateful to you, all three. +Also I want to thank you all for keeping this affair out of the papers, +though how you managed it beats me." + +"Guv," cried the Old Un, tremulous and eager, "oh, Guv, we're fair +sleuth-hounds, we are--specially me. There ain't a 'tective nor +secret-service cove nor bloomin' bobby fit to black our shoes--specially +mine! Y' see, Guv, I know who done it; Joe thinks he knows; an' Spider +don't think at all!" + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee, and looking around, caught the Spider watching him +wide-eyed, his jaws grimly tense and immobile; but meeting his glance, +the Spider lowered his eyes, shifted his smartly-gaitered legs, and +chewed viciously. + +"So, Guv," piped the Old Un cheerily, "we're out for the criminal's +gore--specially me. We're goin' to track the perisher to 'is 'orrible +doom-- + +"'Where'er he be + To th' gallers tree + Oh, Guv, we mean t' bring him; + An' laugh with j'y + When nice an' 'igh + The blinkin' bobbies swing 'im.'" + +"And you think you know who it was?" + +"I do, Guv, I do!" nodded the Old Un. "I knows as 'twas a enemy as done +it; Joe thinks it was one o' them gang fellers, an' Spider don't say who +he thinks done it." + +Once again Ravenslee caught the Spider's eye watching him furtively, and +once again he noticed that the Spider's jaws were clamped hard, while he +was twisting his natty chauffeur's cap in fingers strangely agitated. + +"Sir," said Joe, "me an' the Spider searched that wood, an' we found a +coat--" + +"Shut up, Joe," snarled the Old Un, "you're tellin' it all wrong. Guv, +Joe an' the Spider went a-seekin' an' a-searchin' that wood, an' they +found a--cloo--" + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee. + +"A cloo as is a-goin' t' 'ang somebody yet--a cloo, Guv, as ain't t' be +ekalled for blood-guilt an' mystery. Joe," said the Old Un, sinking his +voice to a hoarse whisper, "the hour is come--perjooce the cloo!" + +Hereupon Joe produced a pocketbook and took thence a highly ornate coat +button whereto a shred of cloth was attached. + +"I found this, sir," said he, "close by where you was a-lyin'." So +Ravenslee took the button upon his palm, and, as he eyed it, the Spider +saw his black brows twitch suddenly together, then--he yawned. + +"And you found this in the wood, Joe?" he enquired sleepily. + +"I did, sir. With that to help 'em, the perlice would have the murdering +cove in no time, and more than once I've been going to hand it over to +'em. But then I thought I'd better wait a bit; if you died was time +enough, an' if you didn't I'd keep it for you--so, sir, there it is." + +"You did quite right, Joe. Yes, you did very right indeed!" + +For a long moment Ravenslee sat languidly twisting the button in thin +white fingers, then flicked it far out over the balustrade down among +the dense evergreens in the garden below. The Old Un gasped, Joe gaped, +and the Spider sighed audibly. + +"Lorgorramighty! Oh, Guv, Guv--" quavered the old man, "you've throwed +away our cloo--our blood-cloo--th' p'lice--you've lost our evidence--" + +"Old Un, of course I have! You see, I don't like clews, or blood, or +the police. You have all been clever enough, wise enough to keep this +confounded business quiet, and so will I--" + +"But, oh, Guv, arter somebody tryin' t' kill ye like a dog--ain't there +goin' t' be no vengeance, no gallers-tree, no 'lectric chair nor +nothin'--" + +"Nothing!" answered Ravenslee gently. "Somebody tried to kill me, but +somebody didn't kill me; here I am, getting stronger every day, so we'll +let it go at that." + +"Why then--I'm done!" said the Old Un, rising. + +"Guv, you're crool an' stony-'carted! 'Ere 's me, a pore old cove as +has been dreamin' an' dreamin' o' gallers-trees an' 'lectric chairs, and +'ere 's you been an' took 'em off me! Guv, I'm disapp'inted wi' ye. Oh, +ingratitood, thou art the Guv!" So saying, the Old Un clapped on his hat +and creaked indignantly away. + +"Crumbs!" exclaimed Joe, "what a bloodthirsty old cove he is, with his +gallers-trees! This means jam, this does." + +"Jam?" repeated Ravenslee wonderingly. + +"Sir, whenever the Old Un's put out, 'e flies to jam same as some chaps +do to drink; makes a fair old beast of hisself, he do. If you'll excuse +us, sir, Spider an' me'll just keep a eye on him to see as he don't go +upsettin' his old innards again." + +Ravenslee nodded, and smiling, watched them hurry after the little old +man; but gradually his amusement waned, and he became lost in frowning +thought. So deeply abstracted was he that he started to find Mrs. Trapes +regarding him with her sharp, bright eyes. + +"Mr. Geoffrey, here's a cup o' beef tea as I've prepared with my own +hand--" + +"But where's--" + +"She's gone t' bed. Here's a cup o' beef tea as is stiff with +nourishment, so get it into your system good an' quick." + +"Gone to bed--" + +"She says it's a headache, o' course--drink it down while it's hot--but +I reckon it's more 'n a headache--yes, sir. A while back I says t' +you--'woo her,' I says, Mr. Geoffrey. I now says--let her alone awhile. +The poor child's all wore out--it's nerves as is the matter with her, I +reckon. So, Mr. Ravenslee, be patient, this ain't no wooin' time; it's +rest she needs an' change of air--" + +"Why, then, Mrs. Trapes, she shall have them!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE WOES OF MR. BRIMBERLY + + +Mr. Brimberly, having dined well as was his custom, lay at his ease +in a luxurious lounge chair in the shade of the piazza; the day was hot, +wherefore on a table at his elbow was a syphon, a bottle, and a long +glass in which ice tinkled alluringly; between his plump fingers was a +large cigar and across his plump knees was an open paper over which he +yawned and puffed and sipped in turn. Nevertheless Mr. Brimberly was +bored and dropping the paper, languidly cherished a languorous whisker, +staring dull-eyed across stately terraces and wide, neat lawns to where, +beyond winding yew walks and noble trees, the distant river flowed. + +Presently as he sat he was aware of a small girl in a white pinafore +approaching along one of these walks--a small being who hopped along by +means of a little crutch and sang to herself in a soft, happy voice. + +Mr. Brimberly blinked. + +Heedless of the eyes that watched her, the child turned into the rose +garden, pausing now and then to inhale the scent of some great bloom +that filled the air with its sweetness. + +Mr. Brimberly sat up, for he permitted few to enter the rose garden. + +All at once the child, singing still, reached up and broke off a great +scarlet bloom. + +Mr. Brimberly arose. + +"Little girl!" he called, in voice round and sonorous, "little girl, +come you 'ere and come immediate!" + +The child started, turned, and after a moment's hesitation hobbled +forward, her little face as white as her pinafore. At the foot of the +broad steps leading up to the piazza she paused, looking up at him with +great, pleading eyes. + +Mr. Brimberly beckoned with portentous finger. + +"Little girl, come 'ere!" he repeated. "Come up 'ere and come immediate!" + +The small crutch tapped laboriously up the steps, and she stood before +Mr. Brimberly's imposing figure mute, breathless, and trembling a +little. + +"Little girl," he demanded, threatening of whisker, "'oo are you +and--what?" + +"Please, I'm Hazel." + +"Oh, indeed," nodded Mr. Brimberly, pulling at his waistcoat. "'Azel +'oo, 'Azel what--and say 'sir' next time, if _you_ please." + +"Hazel Bowker, sir," and she dropped him a little curtsey, spoiled +somewhat by agitation and her crutch. + +"Bowker--Bowker?" mused Mr. Brimberly. "I've 'eard the name--I don't +like the name, but I've 'eard it." + +"My daddy works here, sir," said Hazel timidly. + +"Bowker--Bowker!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Ah, to be sure--one of the +hunder gardeners as I put on three or four weeks ago." + +"Yes, please, sir." + +"Little girl, what are you a-doin' in that garden? Why are you wandering +in the vicinity of this mansion?" + +"Please, I'm looking for Hermy." + +"'Ermy?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "'Ermy? Wot kind of creater may that +be? Is it a dog? Is it a cat? Wot is it?" + +"It's only my Princess Nobody, sir!" + +"Oh, a friend of yours--ha! Persons of that class do not pervade these +regions! And wot do I be'old grasped in your 'and?" + +Hazel looked down at the rose she held and trembled anew. + +"Little girl--wot is it?" demanded the inexorable voice. + +"A rose, sir." + +"Was it--your rose?" + +"N-no, sir." + +"Don't you know as it's a wicked hact to take what ain't yours? Don't +you know as it's thieving and robbery, and that thieving and robbery +leads to prison bars and shackle-chains?" + +"Oh, sir, I--I didn't mean--" the little voice was choked with sobs. + +"Well, let this be a warning to you to thieve no more, or next time I +shall 'ave to become angry. Now--go 'ence!" + +Dropping the rose the child turned and hobbled away as fast as her +crutch would allow, and Mr. Brimberly, having watched her out of sight, +emptied his glass and took up his cigar, but, finding it had gone out, +flung it away. Then he sighed and, sinking back among his cushions, +closed his eyes, and was soon snoring blissfully. + +But by and by Mr. Brimberly began to dream, a very evil dream wherein it +seemed that for many desperate deeds and crime abominable he was chained +and shackled in a dock, and the judge, donning the black cap, sentenced +him to be shorn of those adornments, his whiskers. In his dream it +seemed that there and then the executioner advanced to his fell work--a +bony hand grasped his right whisker, the deadly razor flashed, and Mr. +Brimberly awoke gurgling--awoke to catch a glimpse of a hand so hastily +withdrawn that it seemed to vanish into thin air. + +"'Eavens and earth!" he gasped, and clapping hand to cheek was relieved +to find his whisker yet intact, but for a long moment sat clutching that +handful of soft and fleecy hair, staring before him in puzzled wonder, +for the hand had seemed so very real he could almost feel it there yet. +Presently, bethinking him to glance over his shoulder, Mr. Brimberly +gasped and goggled, for leaning over the back of his chair was a little, +old man, very slender, very upright, and very smart as to attire, who +fanned himself with a jaunty straw hat banded in vivid crimson; an old +man whose bright, youthful eyes looked out from a face wizened with age, +while up from his bald crown rose a few wisps of white and straggling +hair. + +"'Oly 'eavens!" murmured Mr. Brimberly in a faint voice. + +The visitor, settling his bony elbows more comfortably, fanned himself +until his sparse locks waved gently to and fro, and, nodding, spoke +these words: + +"Oh, wake thee, oh, wake thee, my bonny bird, + Oh, wake and sleep no more; + Thy pretty pipe I 'ave n't 'eard, + But, lumme, how you snore!" + +Mr. Brimberly stared; Mr. Brimberly's mouth opened, and eventually Mr. +Brimberly rose and surveyed the intruder slowly, up from glittering +shoes to the dome of his head and down again; and Mr. Brimberly's ample +bosom surged, his eye kindled, and his whiskers--! + +"Cheer-o!" nodded the Old Un. + +Mr. Brimberly blinked and pulled down his waistcoat. + +"Me good man," said he, "you'll find the tradesmen's entrance round the +corner. Go away, if you please, and go immediate--I'm prehoccupied." + +"No, you ain't; you're the butler, you are, I lay my oath-- + +"'Spoons an' forks + An' drawin' corks' + +"that's your job, ain't it, chum?" + +"Chum!" said Mr. Brimberly in tones of horror. "Chum!" he repeated, +grasping a handful of indignant whisker. "Oh, outragious! Oh, very +hobscene! 'Ow dare you, sir? 'Oo are you, sir, eh, sir--answer me, an' +answer--prompt!" + +"Leave them cobwebs alone, an' I'll tell you, matey." + +"Matey!" groaned Mr. Brimberly, turning up his eyes. + +"I'm the Guv's familiar friend and personal pal, I am. I'm 'is +adviser, confeedential, matreemonial, circumstantial, an' architect'ral. +I'm 'is trainer, advance agent, manager, an' sparrin' partner--that's +who I am. An' now, mate, 'avin' 'elped to marry 'im, I've jest took a +run down 'ere to see as all things is fit an' proper for 'is 'oneymoon!" + +"My word, this is a mad feller, this is!" murmured Mr. Brimberly, "or +else 'e 's drunk!" + +"Drunk?" exclaimed the Old Un, clapping on his hat very much over one +eye and glaring, "wot--me?" + +"I repeat," said Mr. Brimberly, addressing the universe in general, "I +repeats as 'e is a narsty, drunken little person!" + +"Person?" cried the Old Un, scowling, "why, you perishin'--" + +"Old!" said Mr. Brimberly, "'old, I beg! Enough 'as been said--go 'ence! +'Oo you are I do not know, wot you are I do not care, but in these +regions you do not remain; your langwidge forbids and--" + +"Langwidge?" snorted the Old Un. "Why, I ain't begun yet, you blinkin', +fat-faced, owl-eyed piece o' sooet--" + +"Your speech, sir," continued Mr. Brimberly with calm austerity and +making the most of whiskers and waistcoat, "your speech is redolent of +slums and back halleys. I don't know you. I don't want to know you! You +are a feller! Go away, feller!" + +"Feller?" snarled the Old Un, "why you--" + +"I repeat," said Mr. Brimberly with dignified deliberation, "I repeat as +you are a very low, vulgar little feller!" + +The Old Un clenched his fists. + +"Right-o!" he nodded cheerily. "That's done it! F' that I'm a-goin' t' +punch ye in th' perishin' eye-'ole!" And he advanced upon the points of +his toes, shoulders hunched, and head viciously outthrust. + +"My word!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, retreating rather precipitately, +"this is very discomposing, this is! I shall have to call the perlice." + +"Perlice!" snarled the Old Un, fiercer than ever, "you won't have +nothing t' call with when I've done wi' ye. I'm goin' t' jab ye on th' +beak t' begin with, then I'll 'ook my left t' your kidneys an' swing my +right to your p'int an' crumple ye up with a jolt on your perishin' +solar plexus as 'll stiffen you till th' day o' doom!" + +"'Oly angels!" murmured Mr. Brimberly, glancing hastily about. + +"Then while you lay bathed in 'orrible gore, I'm goin' t' twist them +whiskers into a 'angman's knot!" + +"This is most distressing!" sighed Mr. Brimberly. + +"Then," continued the Old Un, grinding his remaining teeth, "I'm +a-goin' t' tread your face in an' dance on y'r blighted stummick. Arter +that--" + +"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, retreating before the oncoming +peril and mopping perspiring brow. But suddenly his wandering eye was +arrested by velvet and gold braid, and lifting up his voice he called: + +"William! James! Come 'ere--and come sharp!" + +Two vast and splendid shapes loomed upon the scene, supermen whose +silken calves quivered with unaccustomed haste; at a sign from Mr. +Brimberly they seized upon the Old Un and, despite ghoulish threats, +solemnly bore him off. + +Down the broad sweep of drive they went, the Old Un pouring forth fluent +curses with every step, until they came to a powerful automobile from +beneath which a pair of neatly gaitered legs protruded. + +"Joe!" cried the Old Un, apostrophising these legs, "Joe, stop bein' a +crawlin' worm--come out an' bash these perishers for me, like a good +lad!" But even while he spoke, the footmen hauled him along, so that +when Joe eventually wriggled from under the car the three were close +against the great gates. + +The Old Un was earnestly explaining to his captors exactly what he +thought of them, of their fathers and mothers, their kith and kin, and +the supermen were heeding him not the least, when a thunderbolt seemed +to smite them asunder, and Joe was glancing mild-eyed from one +splendid, supine form to the other. + +"Hullo, Old Un!" said he, "what's the matter now, you old book o' bad +language, you?" + +But Mr. Brimberly, somewhat shaken with his late interview and feeling +the need of a stimulant, had just refilled the long glass when, hearing +a rustle behind him, he turned and beheld a tall woman, elderly and +angular, especially as to chin and elbows, which last obtruded +themselves quite unpleasantly; at least, as he eyed them there was +manifest disapprobation in every hair of his whiskers. + +"Now I wonder," he sighed plaintively, "I wonder what under the blue +expandment of 'oly 'eaven you might be, because if you 'appen to be the +washing--" + +"I--am--not!" + +"Or the cannybal missions--" + +"No--sech--thing!" + +"Oh!" said Mr. Brimberly, and his gaze wandered to the elbows. "Why, +then, let me hinform you--" + +"Ann Angelina Trapes is me name." + +"Why then, ma'am, you've took the wrong turning. 'Owbeit an' +notwithstanding, 'ooever you are and nevertheless, you will find the +tradespeople's entra--" + +"You're the gentleman as is so obligin' as to be Mr. Ravenslee's +butler, ain't you?" + +"Sich is my perfession," Mr. Brimberly admitted. "I am in sole charge of +these premises and so being will ask you to withdraw 'ence immediate. I +will ask--" + +"An' I'll ask you, very p'inted, what you reckon you're doin' in that +chair?" + +"Doing?" + +"I'll ask you, very p'inted, why you're loafin' around wastin' your +master's time?" + +"Loafing?" cried Mr. Brimberly, very red in the face. "Loaf--" + +"I also ask you, very p'inted, wherefore an' why you loaf, guzzlin' an' +swillin' your master's good liquor?" + +"Guzzling!" gasped Mr. Brimberly. "Oh, 'eavens, this is a outrage, this +is! I'll--" + +"It sure is! An' so are you, winebibber!" + +"Winebib--" Mr. Brimberly choked, his round face grew purple, and he +flourished pudgy fists while Mrs. Trapes folded her cotton-gloved hands +and watched him. + +"Winebibber!" she nodded. "An' the wine as you now bib is your master's, +consequently it was stole, an' bein' stole you're a thief, an' bein' a +thief--" + +"Thief!" gurgled Mr. Brimberly. "Ha, thief's a hepithet, thief is, and a +hepithet 's hactionable! I'll 'ave you indented for perjoorious +expressions--" + +"Winebibber!" she sighed. "Snake an' plunderer!" + +"Never," cried Mr. Brimberly, "never in all my days did I ever 'earken +to such contoomacious contoomacity! 'Oo are you an' wot--" + +"Hand over that bottle and what you've left o' them cigars!" + +"Woman, begone!" he cried hoarsely. "Woman, if you don't go 'ence this +very moment, I'll have you persecuted with the hutmost vigour o' the +law for a incorrigible--female!" + +"Female!" repeated Mrs. Trapes; and clasping herself in her long, bony +arms she shuddered and smiled, though her eyes glared more stonily, and +her elbows suggested rapier points, daggers, and other deadly weapons of +offence. + +"Female it were, I think?" she enquired with another grim and smiling +shudder. "Now, sir, to you I sez, debased creecher, I sez, vulgar an' +dishonest loafer, I sez, sly an' subtle serpent, I sez, return to the +back scullery wherefrom you sprang lest I seize you by the hair of your +cheeks an' bounce your silly head against the wall--frequent, I sez!" +and very slowly, Mrs. Trapes moved toward him. + +Mr. Brimberly hesitated, but before those deadly elbows he blenched, his +whiskers wilted all at once, and he retreated backwards; across the +spacious drawing room, along the hall and down the stairs he went, his +pace ever accelerating, until, in full flight, he reached the sanctuary +of his pantry, where, having locked himself securely in, he sank panting +into a chair to mop beaded brow. + +"My word!" said Mr. Brimberly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES UPON HIMSELF A NEW RÔLE + + +Soapy was alone, which in itself was no new thing, for Soapy was a +solitary soul at all times; but just now he sat close against the +rotting fence which skirted that desolation behind O'Rourke's saloon. +Moreover, it was night, and solitude profound was his. He sat on a +battered and disused pail that chanced to be handy, a smouldering +cigarette dangling from his thin-lipped mouth, his long hands pendulous +between his knees, his pallid eyelids sleepily a-droop; but his eyes, +quick and watchful, scanned the deeper gloom of fence and dismal +outbuilding, and he sat there very patient and very still. At last he +stirred slightly, the cigarette quivered and was motionless again, for, +amid the shadows, he had seen a dim shape that flitted swiftly toward +him; on it came, creeping swift and silent beside the fence, nearer and +nearer until it resolved itself into a slender form. Then Soapy spoke. + +"Hello, Kid!" + +Ensued a moment of tense silence, then Spike answered, his voice +unnaturally thin and high-pitched. + +"That--that you, Soapy?" + +"'S right, Kid!" + +"What you--doin' around--here?" + +"Who, me? Y' see, I'm kind o' yearnin' for that gun you got there--" + +"Gun? I--I ain't got--no gun--" + +"Well, Kid, I know Heine's all kinds of a liar, but he tells me he's +loaned you one of his, an' so--" Soapy's long arm shot out in the gloom +and seizing Spike's right arm he drew it near. "Why, Kid," said he, "it +kind o' looks like Heine told the truth for once by accident, don't +it?" + +"You leggo my wrist!" + +"Right-o, Kid, right-o! Don't get peeved--" + +"Well, leggo then!" + +"Sure! Only this artillery ain't goin' t' be no good t' you t'night--ye +see, Bud--ain't here! 'S rough on ye, Kid, 's rough, but he ain't!" + +"W--what--d' ye mean?" stammered the boy. + +"I mean as you comin' here t' plug holes in Bud's carcase it's kind o' +rough on you as there ain't goin' t' be no carcase here to plug. Y' see, +Bud's took his carcase up-town with him t'night--" + +"You're a liar, Soapy, a liar! Bud's inside, I know he is. Leggo my +arm, you can't con me!" + +"'S right, Kid, I ain't tryin'. Only I'm tellin' you Bud's left me an' +Lefty t' run things here t'night. Bud's up-town at his old man's place. +I know because--I sent him, see?" + +"You sent him--you? Ah, come off! You couldn't!" + +"'S right, Kid; I got him away by a fake telegram." + +The boy ventured a long, quivering sigh, his whole frame relaxed, and in +that instant Soapy wrenched the weapon from his loosened hold and rose. +Choking with passion, Spike sprang at him, but Soapy fended him off with +a long arm. + +"Gimme that gun!" + +"Behave, Kid, behave, else I'll have t' dot ye one! Be good an' chase +off home; this ain't no place for you t'night--nor no other time." + +"Gimme that gun!" + +"No!" + +Spike ceased the useless struggle and leaned against the fence, panting, +while Soapy reseated himself upon the battered pail. + +"What you got t' come buttin' in for?" demanded the boy, "this ain't +your show, an' I guess you ain't so mighty fond o' Bud either--" + +"'S right, too," nodded Soapy, "no, I ain't exactly fond of him, Kid; +leastways I don't run t' help him if he falls nor kiss th' place t' make +it well--no, Kid! But I kind o' feel that Bud's too good t' snuff it +this way, or snuff it--yet!" + +"Good?" said the lad bitterly, "good--hell! He's ruined me, Soapy, he's +done me in! He's come between me an'--an' Hermy. He tried t' make me +think dirt of her, an' now--now I--I'm all alone; I ain't got nobody +left--oh, my God!" and huddling to the fence, Spike broke out into a +fierce and anguished sobbing, while Soapy, spinning the revolver +dexterously on his finger, watched him under drooping lids. + +"She was mighty good t' ye, Hermy was!" said he thoughtfully. + +"Don't--ah, don't!" gasped Spike. + +"An' when he spoke dirt of her, you--believed him, Kid!" + +"I didn't." + +"You did, else you'd have been with her now. She was always good t' +you, Hermy was, but you--well, you preferred Bud!" + +"I didn't, Soapy; God knows I didn't--only--I thought Bud would make me +a champion--" + +"By gettin' ye soused, Kid!" + +"Oh, I know--I know now he's only been stringin' me all along--I know +now it's too late--that's why I'm goin' t' kill him." + +"Kill him!" mused Soapy. "Kid, there's good killings an' bad killin's, +an' I reckon this 'ud be a good killin', maybe. But this ain't your +job." + +"Why--why ain't it?" + +"Well, you got a sister f'r one thing, an' besides, you ain't a killer." + +"You gimme that gun an' see!" cried the lad, reaching out a hand +tremulous and eager. + +"When the time came, Kid, 'stead o' shootin', you'd drop your gun like +that time in th' wood." + +"Th' wood!" Spike's voice dropped to a strangled whisper and he shrank +back against the fence. "You--my God, you--saw--!" + +"'S right, Kid, I was there! An' I'm kind o' glad y' couldn't do it, +glad for your sister's sake. But what I'm thinkin' is that maybe she +thinks it was you--eh, Kid?" + +Spike writhed and groaned. + +"Eh, Kid?" + +"Yes!" + +"Why, then, if I was you, I'd skin off right now an' put her wise; it +may mean a whole lot t' her. Y' know where she is--go an' tell her, +Kid." + +"I can't! I can't--she don't want me no more, she's done wi' me, I +guess. I'm--oh, I'm too low-down an' rotten!" + +"Sure!" nodded Soapy. "But she's good, an' she's a woman; an' good +women are only made t' forgive, I reckon." + +"But there's Geoff! I--I couldn't face Geoff." + +"That's because you think a heap too much about a low-down rotten guy +called Spike. I guess it's about time you began t' think about your +sister f' a change. Well, s' long, Kid, I guess I'll be movin'; this +pail comes a bit sharp after an hour of it." + +So saying, Soapy rose, nodded, and strolled away, still twirling the +revolver upon that long and dexterous finger. For a moment Spike stood +looking after him, then, chin on breast, turned and went his solitary +way across the desolate waste. But now it was Soapy who, pausing, turned +to watch him safe out of sight. Scarcely had the sound of Spike's +departure died away than a door opened and closed hard by, and heavy +steps approached, halted suddenly, and a hoarse voice demanded: + +"Who's there?" + +"Why, this is me, Bud." + +"What th' hell are ye hangin' around out here for?" questioned M'Ginnis +suspiciously. + +"Countin' th' stars, Bud, an' doin' th' Providence act--midst of life +we are in death' gag--" + +"Aw, cut out that slush an' hike along t' Rayner's wi' me; I got a job +for you an' Heine--" + +Side by side they crossed the gloomy, open lot until they were come +beneath a lamp at a certain bleak street corner. Here Soapy paused and +held out his hand, open to the light. + +"This don't happen t' be your ring, Bud?" he enquired lazily. + +M'Ginnis glanced at the ring upon that narrow palm, a ring wrought into +the semblance of two hands that clasped each other, looked closer, drew +in his breath suddenly, then straightened his shoulders and threw back +his head. + +"No!" he answered, frowning into Soapy's imperturbable face, "what th' +hell made you think it was?" + +"Why, ye see, Bud, it happens t' have your name scratched inside it, +that's all. But if it ain't yours, it ain't!" And speaking, Soapy tossed +the ring back over his shoulder far out into the open lot. + +For a long moment M'Ginnis stood motionless, staring back at that +desolate plot of ground; when at last he glanced toward his companion, +Soapy was lighting a fresh cigarette. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE OLD UN ADVISES AND RAVENSLEE ACTS + + +In the rose garden was an arbour smothered in riotous bloom, and in the +arbour was a divan, wide and low and voluptuously soft, meet for the +repose of an invalid on a languorous afternoon, or indeed any other +time. But just now the invalid reposed not at all but sat, elbow on knee +and square chin on fist, very lonely and therefore very grim. + +All about him roses bloomed, filling the air with their sweetness, but +he had no eyes for their beauty; upon the table within reach of his hand +were books and magazines, but he was in no mood for reading; clasped +between strong white teeth he held his favourite pipe unlighted and +cold, for tobacco had for him no savour. So he sat and scowled at the +universe in general, and in particular at a robin that had boldly +ventured near and was regarding him with a very round, bright eye. + +"She's avoiding me!" said Ravenslee bitterly, teeth clenched upon his +pipestem, "there's no doubt about it, damn it; she's avoiding me! And +she's not happy here either!" + +The robin turned his head to regard the speaker with his other eye, then +fluttered his wings and flew away as the lazy quiet of the afternoon was +broken by the squeak of shoe leather, and glancing up, Ravenslee beheld +the Old Un. + +"What cheer, Guv," said he, "greetin's doo and how's the invalid?" + +"Invalid!" repeated Ravenslee, scowling again, "I'm no invalid!" + +"Spoke like a true-bred gamecock, s' help me!" + +"I'm as right as rain physically, Old Un, but--" + +"Talkin' o' physic, Guv," said the old man, seating himself and nodding +brightly, "talkin' o' physic, the physic as set you on your pins again +was love, Guv, love!" + +"But it so happens--" + +"Wait a bit, I ain't done, Guv! 'Ere 's me, a old cove as 'as lived +'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears longer 'n you, so nacherally I'm a +powerful lot fuller o' th' wisdom o' life than you, specially in matters +o' th' 'eart, Guv. Now me, 'avin' 'elped you into th' matrimonial ring, +as you might say, 'ave took your 'appiness under my wing, an', Guv, I +don't like the way you're shapin'--" + +"But you see--" + +"'Old 'ard, Guv, let a pore old cove get a word in for a change. Now +there's you an' 'er, your fair young spouse, both up to each other's +weight, sound in wind an' limb an' meant for j'y--what I want is +t' see you come to a clinch! This ain't no time for sparrin' an' +out-fightin'--yet 'ere you are a-feintin' at each other from opposite +corners--" + +"But--" + +"'Arf a mo', Guv, 'arf a mo'--gimme a chance for a occasional word! An' +don't frown, Guv, don't frown at a pore old cove; y' see, there's jest +three blokes in this 'ard world as my old 'eart warms to, an' one on 'em +'s Joe, an' t' other un 's you, an' t' other un 's 'er--which ain't a +bloke. Lord, Guv, what a soft armful o' beauty! 'Ow warm an' cuddlesome! +Oh, Guv, what a waist! What lips! What--" + +"Old Un, for heaven's sake, shut up! D' you think I'm blind? D' you +think--" + +"Guv, I dunno wot t' think! 'Ere 's you with your 'ead in your 'ands, +an' there's 'er sighin' an' sighin'--" + +"Sighing? Where? When? Why--" + +"Sighin' an' sighin', Guv, so soft an' pretty--I 'eard 'er! Also she +wep'--I seen 'er." + +"Where?" + +"An' 'er tears, Guv, them pearly tears went t' my 'eart--an' nobody t' +put a arm round that waist, nor kiss them sweet lips, nor soothe them +tears away-- + +"'Oh, alone she sat sighin' by a green willer tree, + With 'er 'and on 'er bosom, 'er 'ead on 'er knee, + Weepin' willer" willer, willer my garlan' shall be.' + +"So, Guv, I ax you, man to man, why, oh, why are ye neglectin' your fair +young spouse? An', Guv, I only ax because your 'appiness an' 'ers is +mine--s' 'elp me!" + +"How if it's the other way about, Old Un? Suppose she avoids me?" + +"Why lumme, Guv! 'T is a sure sign she needs persoot. Remember this: + +"'Im as would lovely woman woo + 'E lovely woman must persoo, + For if 'e don't, 't is plain as plain + That feller 'e will woo in vain.' + +"An', Guv, I've only took th' liberty o' sayin' this because my pore old +bowels yearns to ye--both on ye. Persoot's the word, Guv, per-soot!" + +The Old Un nodded, rose, and creaked away, and Ravenslee, looking after +him, scowled no longer, but rising, sauntered across the trim garden to +where there was a lily pool and, leaning over the marble rim, stared +down into the placid water. + +Now as the Old Un went his way, there met him a little girl, very neat +and tidy, who sang to herself in a small happy voice and tapped along on +a crutch; but beholding the Old Un, his dazzling shoes, his rakish hat, +she stood silent all at once, glancing up wistfully into that fierce, +battered old face. + +"Lumme--crutches!" he exclaimed. + +"No, please--only one, sir!" she answered, dropping him a little, +old-fashioned curtsey. + +"Crikey!" said he, staring, "so young, so tender, an'--a game leg! A +little angel wi' a broke wing--lumme!" + +So Age and Youth stared at each other and she, being a child, was quick +to heed that the eyes so bright beneath their hoary brows were kindly +eyes, and the smile upon the grim old mouth was very reassuring, +wherefore she smiled also. + +"Only one crutch, sir," she repeated. "An' the doctor says as I won't +want it much longer, sir." Here, dropping another curtsey, she held up +for his acceptance a bunch of wild flowers. + +"What--f' me, little maid?" he enquired. + +"Yes, please, sir." + +"Why bless--bless your lovin' little 'eart!" quavered the old man, and +stooped to touch her rosy cheek with a hand gnarled and scarred with +much hard punching, yet a very gentle hand indeed. "God bless that +little game leg, but pretty flowers 'ud be wasted on a old bloke like +me. You take 'em to th' Guv, see--over there--that tall chap leanin' +over th' pool. But first gimme a--a kiss instead, will ye, little lass?" + +"I'd like to, sir." + +And when the Old Un had kissed and been kissed right heartily, he +pointed to Ravenslee's distant, lounging figure, winked, nodded, and +squeaked away. + +Thus it was that Ravenslee, absorbed in thought, was presently roused by +the quick light tapping of the little crutch and glanced up. + +"Oh!" she cried softly; the flowers fell and lay neglected as, clasping +her hands, she stared up at him in radiant-eyed wonder. + +"Welcome, Highness!" said he and bowed. + +"Oh, it's the Prince--my dear Prince! Oh, Goody!" and she hastened +toward him, then stopped all at once, puzzled and abashed because of his +elegant attire. Perceiving which he reached out and drew her down by him +on the marble seat beside the pool. + +"Why this sudden change of demeanour, Princess?" he enquired. "What's +the matter?" + +"You're--you're so different, sir--so different an' grand in all them +cute clo'es, sir." + +"Am I, dear? But I'm just the same inside, you know. And, for heaven's +sake, Princess, do not call me 'sir.'" + +"But the big gentleman that belongs here an' has all these lovely +flowers an' everything--he says as I must always say 'sir.'" + +"Big gentleman?" + +"Yes, the big, soft gentleman with the cute little curls on his cheeks." + +"Oh--him!" said Ravenslee, laughing suddenly. "Indeed a very just +description, Princess. But you don't have to worry about him any more; +he's gone." + +"Gone? For good?" + +"For very good indeed!" + +"Doesn't all this beautiful, beautiful place belong t' him any more?" + +"Never any more." + +"Have you come here 'stead of him? Come t' stay?" + +"Yes." + +"An' can I pick a rose t' kiss sometimes?" + +"As many as you like." + +"Oh!" sighed the child rapturously, nestling within his arm, "isn't that +just--fine! I guess this sure is the Beautiful City of Perhaps, after +all!" + +"I wonder?" + +"Oh, but I'm sure it is--now th' gentleman's gone I just know it is!" + +"What makes you so sure?" + +"Everything! 'Cause you see, Prince, my daddy don't have t' be away all +day any more. An' mumsey don't have t' sew late, nights, any more. An' +when we came into the cute little house where we live--there was the +doll that says 'mamma' jest waitin' f' me. An' there was a big box o' +candies, an' a doll carriage with real rubber on th' wheels--jest like +we used to talk about. So you see this must be Perhaps at last, an' I'm +so--so happy--only--" Hazel sighed. + +"Only what?" + +"I do wish Hermy could find her way here too; she used t' be so tired +sometimes." + +"You mean that you would like to find Princess Nobody, I guess." + +"Oh, but I can't! I used to look an' look for her every day 'til th' +gentleman said she wasn't here, an' told me never t' come near th' big +house any more." + +"But he's gone, and you never had me to help you." + +"Oh, will you--will you help me right now?" she pleaded. + +"Surest thing you know!" he nodded, "your hand, Princess." + +So hand in hand he led her, suiting his long legs to hers, along shady +walks, up terrace steps, across smooth lawns, and so to the great house. +Hazel paused to question him further concerning "the gentleman", but +Ravenslee laughed and, seating her upon his shoulder, bore her into the +house. + +In her housekeeper's room, surrounded by many dusty bill files and +stacks of account books, they presently found Mrs. Trapes, whose +hawk's-eye viewed bills and tradesmen's books while she frowned and +muttered such comments as "Rogues!" "Thieves!" "Scand'lous!" "Wicked!" +Until glancing up, her sharp features softened, and she smiled up into +the child's happy face. + +"So Hazel's found ye, has she, Mr. Geoffrey. An' talkin' o' her, you've +sure made the Bowkers a happy fam'ly. But, my land, Mr. Ravenslee, the +scand'lous prices as th' tradespeople has been allowed t' charge you +these last six months! Here's th' butcher--listen t' this--" + +"Heaven forbid, Mrs. Trapes! Rather let that butcher listen to you, +miserable wretch!" + +"An' there's the milkman--that milkman's cows ought t' blush at th' +sound o' your name! Here's his accounts for the last six months, an' I've +found--" + +"Have you, Mrs. Trapes? We're trying to find Hermione--where is she?" + +"Oh, she's in her room--laying down, I guess." + +"Not," enquired Ravenslee, "not--er--in bed, is she?" + +"Mr. Geoffrey, I don't know; I'm busy. Go an' see for yourself--she's +your wife, ain't she?" + +"Why, since you ask, I--er--hardly know," he answered a little ruefully, +"anyway, found she shall be." + +With the child perched upon his shoulder he strode up-stairs and along +wide corridors whose deep carpets gave forth no sound, and so reached a +certain door. Here he hesitated a moment, then knocked with imperious +hand. + +"Come in!" called that voice whose soft inflection had always thrilled +him, but never as it did now as, turning the handle, he entered his +wife's chamber. + +Hermione was standing before a long mirror, and she neither turned nor +looked from the radiant vision it reflected; her eyes, her attention, +all the feminine soul of her being just then fixed and centered upon the +tea gown she was trying on; such a garment as she had gloated over in +the store windows, yearned for, but never thought to possess. + +"Ann," she sighed, "oh, Ann, isn't it exquisite! Isn't it a perfect +dream! Of course it needs a wee bit of alteration here and there, but +I can do that. Isn't it good of him to have bought it without saying a +word! And there are heaps of dresses and robes and--and everything! A +complete trousseau, Ann, dear--think of it! I wonder how he knew my +size--" + +"Oh, I just guessed it, my dear," answered Ravenslee in the voice of a +much experienced husband. + +Hermione gasped, and turning, stared at him wide-eyed, seeing only him, +conscious only of him. Lifting Hazel to the floor, he seated himself +upon her bed and, crossing his legs, eyed her flushed loveliness with a +matter-of-fact air. "Really," he continued, "I don't see that it needs +any alteration; perhaps the sleeves might be a trifle shorter--show a +little more arm. But those flounces and things are perfect! I hope all +the other things fit as well?" + +Hermione flushed deeper still and caught her breath. + +"Oh, Hermy," said a soft, pleading little voice, "won't you see me, +please?" + +Hermione started, her long lashes drooped suddenly, and then--then, +forgetful of costly lace, of dainty ruffles and ribbons, she was on her +knees and had the child close in her arms. And beholding the clasp of +those round, white arms, the lovely, down-bent head, and all the tender, +craving, inborn motherhood of her, Ravenslee held his breath, and into +his eyes came a light of reverent adoration. + +Presently he rose and left them together, but as he went, the light was +in his eyes still. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +CONCERNING A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES + + +"And so," said Hermione, as she waved good-by to Hazel, who stood in the +cottage doorway with Mrs. Bowker--a Mrs. Bowker no longer faded, "you +didn't forget even the doll that says 'Mamma'?" + +"It was such a little thing!" he answered. + +"What a--man you are!" she said softly. + +"Just that, Hermione," he answered, "and--frightfully human!" She was +silent. "Do you know what I mean?" he demanded, glancing at her averted +face. + +"Yes!" she answered, without looking around. So they walked for awhile +in silence. Suddenly he seized her hand and drew it through his arm. + +"Hermione," he said gently, "I want my wife." + +She still kept her head averted, but he could feel how she was +trembling. + +"And you think--" she began softly. + +"That I have been patient long enough. I have waited and hoped +because--" + +"Because you are so generous, so kind--such a man!" she said softly and +with head still averted. + +"And yet since I have been well again, you have kept me at arm's length. +Dear, you--love me still, don't you?" + +"Love you?" she repeated, "love you?" For a moment she turned and looked +up at him then drew her arm from his and walked on with head averted +once more. So they entered the rose garden and coming to the lily pool +leaned there side by side. + +"Hermione," said he, staring down into the water, "if you really love +me, why do you hate to kiss me? Why do you hardly suffer me to touch +you? And you've never even called me by my name, that I remember!" + +"Geoffrey!" she breathed; "and I--love you to touch me! And I don't hate +to kiss you, Geoffrey dear." + +"Then why do you keep me at arm's length?" + +"Do I?" she questioned softly, gazing down at the lily pads. + +"You know you do. Why?" + +"Well--because." + +"Because what?" + +"Oh, well, just--because." + +"Hermione--tell me." + +"Well, everything is so strange--so unreal! This great house, the +servants, all the beautiful clothes you bought me! To have so very much +of everything after having to do with so very little--it's all so +wonderful and--dreadful!" + +"Dreadful?" + +"You are so--dreadfully rich!" + +"Is that the reason you keep me at such a distance? Is that why you +avoid me?" + +"Avoid you?" + +"Yes, dear. You've done it very sweetly and delicately, but you have +avoided me lately. Why?" + +Hermione didn't answer. + +"And you haven't touched any of the monthly allowance I make you," he +went on, frowning a little, "not one cent. Why, Hermione?" + +Hermione was silent. + +"Tell me!" + +Still she was silent, only she bent lower above the pool and drew +further from him, whereat his pale cheek flushed, and his frown grew +blacker. + +And presently, as he scowled down into the water, she stole a look at +him, and when she spoke, though the words were light, the quiver in her +voice belied them. + +"Invalid, dear, if you want to be angry with me, wait--till you're a +little stronger." + +Ravenslee stooped and picked up a handful of small pebbles that chanced +to lie loose. + +"Wife, dear," said he, "I'm as well and strong as ever I was. But I've +asked you several questions which I mean you to answer, so I am going to +give you until I have pitched all these pebbles into the water, and +then--" Hermione glanced up swiftly. + +"Then?" she questioned. + +"Why then, if you haven't answered, I shall--take matters into my own +hands. One!" and a pebble splashed into the pool. + +"What do you want to know?" + +"Two! Why haven't you condescended to take your allowance?" + +"Dear, I--I didn't need it, and even if I had, I--oh, I couldn't take +it--yet!" + +"Three! Why not?" + +"Because you have given me so much already, and I--have given +you--nothing." + +"Four! Why--haven't you?" + +"Oh--well--because!" + +"Five! What does 'because' mean, this time?" + +"It means--just--because!" + +"Six! Seven! Eight! Why have you avoided me lately?" + +Hermione was silent, watching him with troubled eyes while he slowly +pitched the pebbles into the pool, counting as they fell. + +"Nine! Ten! Eleven! Twelve! Why do you keep me at arm's length?" + +"I don't--I--I--you won't let me--" she said a little breathlessly, +while one by one he let the pebbles fall into the pool, counting +inexorably as they fell. + +"Thirteen! Fourteen, fifteen--and that's the last!" As he spoke he +turned toward her, and she, reading something of his purpose in his +eyes, turned to flee, felt his long arms about her, felt herself swung +up and up and so lay crushed and submissive in his fierce embrace as he +turned and began to bear her across the garden. Then, being helpless, +she began to plead with him. + +"Ah, don't, don't--dear! Geoffrey! Put me down! Where are you taking me? +If any one sees us--" + +"Let them!" he muttered grimly; "you're my wife!" + +So he bore her across the garden into the arbour and laying her upon the +divan, sank beside it on his knees, panting a little. + +"A little weak--still!" said he, "but not so bad--you're no scraggy +sylph, thank heaven! Hermione--look at me!" But she turned and hid her +face against him, for his clasp was close about her still. So he stooped +and kissed her hair, her glowing cheek, her soft white neck, and, in +that instant--wonder of wonders--her arms were around him, strong, +passionate arms that clung and drew him close--then strove wildly to +hold him away. + +"Loose me!" she cried, "let me go! Geoffrey--husband, be generous and +let me go!" But he lifted her head, back and back across his arm until +beneath her long lashes her eyes looked into his. + +"Hermione, when will you--be my wife?" + +Against him he could feel the sweet hurry of her breathing, and stooping +he spoke again, lip to lip: + +"Hermione, when will you be my wife?" + +But, even while he kissed her, between those quivering, parted lips came +a murmur of passionate prayer and pleading. + +"Oh, my love, wait--wait! Let me tell you--ah, loose me and let me tell +you." + +Slowly his hold relaxed, and, twisting in his arms, she slipped upon her +knees beside him, and, crouching close, hid her face against him. + +"Beloved," she whispered quickly, breathlessly, "oh, dear man that I +love so--there is something between us, a shadow of shame and horror +that is with me day and night and always must be. While you lay sick it +was there, torturing me with every moan and sigh you uttered. It is +with me wherever I go--it is between us now--yes, now--even while I +strain you in my arms like this. I have watched you grow strong and well +again, I've seen the love in your eyes, and I've yearned to be to +you--all you would have me, but because of this shadow I--dare not. Ah, +God, how can I be wife to you when--let this answer for me." And she +placed in Ravenslee's hand a coat button whereto a piece of cloth +adhered. "Dear love, I saw you throw it away," she explained, "and I +searched and searched until I found it." + +"Why?" + +"Because I knew you would soon ask me--this question, and I have kept it +for my answer. Ah, God! how can I be wife to you when my brother would +have killed you--murdered you!" + +Ravenslee hurled the button far away, then lifting Hermione's bowed +head, spoke very tenderly. + +"How does all this affect our love, Hermione, except to show me you are +even sweeter and nobler than I had thought. And as for the shadow, it +is--only a shadow after all." + +"But it is my shame!" she answered. "You might have had for wife the +sister of a thief, but not--oh, God! not the sister of a would-be +murderer. If--if I came to you now, I should come in shame--Ah, +Geoffrey, don't--shame me!" + +"God forbid!" he muttered. + +Close, close she clasped him, hiding her face against him, kissing and +kissing the rough cloth of his coat. + +"Oh, Geoffrey," she murmured, "how we do love each other!" + +"So much, Hermione, that I will never--claim you until you are ready to +come to me of your own will. But, dear, I am only a man--how long must I +wait?" + +"Give me time," she pleaded, "with time the horror may grow less. Let me +go away for awhile--a little while. Let me find Arthur--" + +"No," he answered, frowning, "you shan't do that; there will be no +need--to-morrow I go to fetch him." + +"To bring him--here?" + +"Why, of course. You see, I intend him to go to college." + +Hermione rose and coming to the entrance of the arbour leaned there. + +"Why, Hermione--dear love--you're crying! What is it?" + +"Nothing," she answered, bowing her face upon her arm, "only--I +think--if you ask me again--I can't--keep you--waiting--very long!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +OF A PACKET OF LETTERS + + +M'Ginnis jerked aside the roll-top desk and falling on his knees before +a small but massive safe built into the wall behind, set the combination +and swung open the heavy door, talking to his companion as he did so and +quite unconscious of the pale face that watched him through the dingy +window. + +"That dam' Soapy's gettin' ugly," he was saying, "an' it don't do t' +get ugly with me, Heine, boy! Soapy thinks he's smart Alec all right, +but I guess I'm some smarter. Why, I got evidence enough in here t' +'lectrocute a dozen Soapys." + +"So?" said Heine, chewing on his cigar and peering into the safe. "Say, +what's all them tied up in sassy blue ribbon, Bud?" + +"These?" said M'Ginnis, and he took out a bundle of letters, turning +them over in his big hands. + +"Skirt--hey, Bud?" + +"Sure thing!" he nodded, and as he stared down at this packet, how +should he know how tense and rigid had become the lounging form in the +darkness beyond the window, or guess of the wide glare of watchful eyes +or of the sudden quiver of a smouldering cigarette? + +"Yes, a girl's letters, Heine! An' a hell of a lot of 'em. I dunno why I +keep 'em, but--oh, hell!" So saying he tossed the letters back again and +turned to his companion. "Hand over that dope!" he commanded, and Heine +passed over a bundle of papers which M'Ginnis carefully slipped into a +certain compartment. As he did so, Heine spun around upon his heel. + +"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you shook me that time, Soapy! Where've you +blown in from--" + +"An' what th' hell are you nosin' around here for, anyway?" snarled +M'Ginnis, shutting the heavy safe with a fierce slam; "since you've +come in you can get out again--right now!" + +Soapy seated himself upon a corner of the desk and placidly breathed out +two spirals of cigarette smoke. + +"Heard about Hermy bein' married, Bud?" he enquired. + +"Married? You're a liar! Hermy married? It's not so!" + +"'S right!" nodded Soapy. "She's married th' millionaire guy as got +shot--you know--got shot in that wood--you'll remember, Bud!" + +M'Ginnis sank into a chair and fell to biting his nails, staring blindly +before him. + +"Is--this--straight goods?" he enquired thickly, without altering his +gaze. + +"Sure! Y' see, she nursed him through his sickness, Bud--kind of did the +piller-smoothin' an' brow-strokin' act. Oh, I guess she comforted him +quite some." + +M'Ginnis stared before him, worrying his nails with sharp white teeth. + +"Ravenslee's a well man again, I hear, an' they're honeymoonin' at his +place on the Hudson--devotion ain't the word, Bud! 'S funny," said +Soapy, "but th' bullet as downed this guy drove Hermy into his arms. +'S funny, ain't it, Bud?" + +With a hoarse, inarticulate cry that was scarcely human, M'Ginnis sprang +from his chair, his quivering fists up-flung. For a moment he stood +thus, striving vainly for utterance, then wrenched loose his +neckerchief, while Soapy methodically lighted a new cigarette from the +butt of its predecessor. + +"Easy, Bud, easy!" he remonstrated gently, when M'Ginnis's torrent of +frenzied threats and curses had died down somewhat. "If you go on that +way, you'll go off--in a fit or something an' I shouldn't like t' see +ye die--that way!" + +"Up the river, is he?" panted M'Ginnis. + +"'S right, Bud, up the river in his big house--with her. I--" + +"Is he, by--" + +"A dandy place f' honeymoonin', Bud!" + +"Loan me your gun, Soapy. I'll get him, by God! if I have t' shoot him +in her arms--loan me y'r gun!" + +"I guess not, Bud, no, I guess not. I'd feel kind o' lonesome without +th' feel of it. Ask Heine; he'll loan you his; it's gettin' t' be quite +a habit with him, ain't it, Heine?" + +M'Ginnis sat awhile glaring down at his clutching right hand, then he +rose, opened his desk, and took thence a heavy revolver, and slipped it +inside his coat. + +"You're comin' with me, Heine," said he, "I'll want you." + +"Sure thing, Bud," nodded Heine, chewing his cigar. "But what about +lettin' Soapy tag along too." + +"Soapy," said M'Ginnis, striding to the door, "Soapy can go t' hell +right now." + +"Why then, Bud," drawled Soapy, "I'll sure meet you--later. S'long." + +Left alone, Soapy's languor gave place to swift action. In two strides, +it seemed, he was in the saloon, had beckoned the quick-eyed bartender +aside and put the question: "Where's the Kid, Jake?" + +The bartender lifted an eyebrow and jerked a thumb upward. + +"Shut-eye," he nodded, and turned back to his multifarious duties. + +Up a narrow stair sped Soapy and, opening one of the numerous doors, +crossed to a truckle bed wherefrom a tousled head upreared itself. + +"Who th'--" + +"Say, Kid, are ye drunk or only asleep?" + +"What yer want, Soapy? You lemme be--what yer want?" began Spike +drowsily. + +"Nothin' much, Kid, only Bud an' Heine's gone t' shoot up y'r sister's +husband." + +"Husband!" cried Spike, drowsy no longer. "Husband--say, d' ye mean +Geoff?" + +"That's who, Kid. You was crackin' on t' me about wantin' t' make good; +well, here's y'r chance. Bud aims t' get there 'bout midnight--up th' +river, you know--so you got two hours. You'll have t' go some t' get in +first, but I guess you can do it." + +"I will if it kills me!" cried Spike, springing toward the door. + +"Hold on, Kid, you'll need some mazuma, maybe. Here's a ten-spot. It'll +be more useful t' you than me after t'night, I reckon. So get your +hooks on to it, an' now--beat it!" + +Without more words Spike snatched the money, crammed it into his pocket +and, running down the stairs, was gone. + +Then, after having lighted another cigarette, Soapy descended to +M'Ginnis's dingy office, where having dragged away the desk, he brought +a chair and sat with his ear against the safe, turning the combination +lock with long, delicate fingers. To and fro he turned it, very +patiently hearkening to the soft clicks the mechanism gave forth while +the cigarette smouldered between his pallid lips. Soapy, among other +accomplishments, was a yeggman renowned in the profession, and very soon +the heavy door swung softly back, and Soapy became lost in study. Money +there was and valuables of many kinds, and these he didn't trouble with, +but to the papers he gave a scrupulous attention; sometimes as he read +his white eyelids fluttered somewhat, and sometimes the dangling +cigarette quivered. Presently he arose and bore these many papers to the +sheet iron upon which stood the rusty stove; here he piled them and set +them alight and stood watching until they were reduced to a heap of +charred ash. Then, returning to the safe, he took out a bundle of +letters tied up in a faded blue ribbon, and seating himself at +M'Ginnis's desk, he slipped off the ribbon and very methodically began +to read these letters one after the other. + +But as he read the humble entreaties, the passionate pleading of those +written words, blotted and smeared with the bitter tears of a woman's +poignant shame and anguish, Soapy's pendent cigarette fell to the floor +and lay there smouldering and forgotten, and his lips were drawn back +from sharp, white teeth--pallid lips contorted in a grin the more awful +because of the great drops that welled from the fierce, half-closed +eyes. Every letter he read and every word, then very methodically set +them back within the faded blue ribbon and sat staring down at them with +eyes wider open than usual--eyes that saw back into the past. And as he +sat thus, staring at what had been, he repeated a sentence to himself +over and over again at regular intervals, speaking with a soft +inflection none had ever heard from him before: + +"Poor little Maggie--poor little kid!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +TELLS HOW RAVENSLEE BROKE HIS WORD AND WHY + + +"Past eleven o'clock, dear," said Hermione. + +"Still so early?" sighed Ravenslee. + +They were sitting alone in the fire glow, so near that by moving his +hand he could touch her where she sat curled up in the great armchair; +but he did not reach out his hand because they were alone and in the +fire glow, and Hermione had never seemed quite so alluring. + +"How cosy a fire is--and how unnecessary!" she sighed contentedly. + +"I'm English enough to love a fire, especially when it is unnecessary," +he answered. + +"English, dear?" + +"My mother was English; that's why I was educated in England." + +"Your mother! How she must have loved you!" + +"I suppose she did; but, you see, she died when I was a baby." + +"Poor lonely mite!" Here her hand came out impulsively to caress his +coat sleeve and to be prisoned there by two other hands, to be lifted +and pressed to burning lips, whereat she grew all rosy in the fire glow. + +"I suppose," said he, the words coming a little unevenly, "it would be +too much to ask my wife to--come a little--nearer?" + +"Nearer? Why, Geoffrey, dear, our chairs are touching now." + +"Our chairs? Why, yes--so they are! I suppose," sighed he, "I suppose it +would be breaking my word to my wife if I happened to--kiss my wife?" + +"Why, Geoffrey--of course it would!" + +"Yes, I feared so!" he nodded and kissed her hand instead, and there +fell a silence. + +"How heavenly it is!" she whispered softly, leaning a little nearer to +him. + +"Heavenly!" he answered, leaning a little nearer to her and watching the +droop of her lashes. + +"So--so quiet and--peaceful!" she added, drawing away again, conscious +of his look. + +"Horribly!" he sighed. + +"Geoffrey!" + +"Quiet and peace," he explained, "may hold such an infinitude of +possibilities impossible of realisation to a husband who is bound by +promises, that it is apt to be a little--trying." + +Hermione didn't speak but drew his hand to be caressed by the soft oval +of a cheek and touched by the velvet of shy lips. + +"And yet," he went on, staring resolutely at the fire, "I wouldn't +change--this, for anything else the world could offer me!" + +"Bear with me--a little longer, dear!" she murmured. + +"As long as you will, Hermione--providing--" + +"Well, my Geoffrey, dear?" + +"That it is only--a little longer." + +"You don't think I'm very--silly, do you, dear?" she enquired, staring +into the fire. + +"No, not very!" + +"Oh!" she said softly, glancing at him reproachfully. "You don't think +me--cruel?" + +"Not very," he answered, kissing her hand again. + +"Dear Geoffrey, you don't think I'm very selfish, do you?" she +questioned wistfully. + +"No--never that!" he answered, keeping his gaze averted. + +"Because if--" + +"If?" said he. + +"If it is hard for you--" the soft voice faltered. + +"Yes, Hermione?" + +"If you really think I'm--cruel and--silly, you--needn't wait--any +longer--if you wish--" + +His arms were about her, drawing her near, clasping her ever closer, +and she held him away no more, but--beholding her wistful eyes, the +plaintive droop of her vivid mouth, and all the voiceless pleading of +her, he loosed her and turned away. + +"I love you so much--Hermione, so much, that your will shall be my +will." + +She rose, and leaning against the carved mantel stared down into the +fire; when at last she spoke, there was a note in her voice he had never +heard before, + +"Geoffrey, dear, this world is a very bad world for a lonely girl, and +sometimes a very hateful world, and I have been lonely nearly all my +life--and I didn't think there were such men as you; I didn't think any +man could love so unselfishly. All my life I shall--treasure the +recollection of this hour--yes, always! always!" + +Then she turned and, ere he knew, was on her knees before him, had +twined soft arms about his neck, and was looking up at him through +shining tears. + +"Yes, I'm--crying a little! I don't do it often, dear--tears don't +easily come with me. But now I'm crying because--oh, because I'm so +proud--so proud to have won such a wonderful love. Good night--good +night! Oh, break your word for once--kiss me, my husband!" + +So while she knelt to him thus, he kissed her until she sighed and +stirred in his embrace. Then she rose and hand in hand they crossed the +room and he opened the door; for a blissful moment they stood there +silent in the shadows, but when he would have kissed her again she +laughed at him through her tears and fled from him up the wide stairway. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +HOW SPIKE GOT EVEN + + +A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Ravenslee sat on long +after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk on broad chest, his +eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in profound but joyful +meditation; once he turned to look where she had stood beside the +mantel, and once he reached out to touch the thrice-blessed chair that +had held her. + +The curtains stirred and rustled at the open window behind him, but he +sat looking into the flickering fire, seeing there pictures of the +future, and the future was full of a happiness beyond words, for in +every picture Hermione moved. + +All at once he started and glanced swiftly around, his lounging attitude +changing to one of watchful alertness, for he had heard a sound that +drew rapidly nearer--the hiss and pant of breath drawn in quick gasps. +Silently he arose and turned to see the curtains swing apart and a +shapeless something stagger forward and fall heavily. Then he reached +out to the switch beside the hearth, and the room was flooded with +brilliant light; the figure kneeling just inside the swaying curtains +uttered a strangled cry and threw up a hand before his face, a hand dark +with spattering blood. + +"Oh, Geoff--oh, Geoff!" panted Spike, "I ain't--come thievin' this +time--honest t' God, I ain't!" + +"Why, you're hurt--what's the matter?" + +"They see me down th' road as I came an' shot me, but this ain't +nothin'. Out th' lights, Geoff--out 'em--quick!" + +But Ravenslee had crossed the room, had seized the lad's arm, and was +examining the ugly graze that bled so freely. + +"That ain't nothin'--douse th' lights, Geoff--out 'em quick. Bud's +coming here close behind--Bud an' Heine--they mean t' plug you--oh, put +out th' lights--" + +Instinctively Ravenslee turned, but even as he did so Spike uttered a +hoarse cry. + +"No, ye don't, Bud--not this time, by God!" and sprang upon the form +that towered between the curtains; came the sound of fierce scuffling, a +deafening report, and running forward, Ravenslee caught Spike as he +staggered back; heard a rush and trample of feet along the terrace, the +sound of blows and fierce curses behind the swaying curtains, heard the +Spider's fierce shout and Joe's deep roar, two more shots in rapid +succession, and the swift patter of feet in flight and pursuit. + +"How is it, Spike? Are you hurt, old chap?" + +But Spike just then was beyond words, so Ravenslee bore the swooning boy +to a settee, and laying him there, began to search hastily for the +wound. + +But now the door was flung wide and Hermione was beside him. + +"Geoffrey--oh, my love! Have they hurt you?" + +"No, dear--thanks to Spike, here!" + +"Arthur! Oh, thank God--did he--?" + +"Took the bullet meant for me, Hermione. I owe your brother my life!" + +She was down on her knees and very soon her skilful fingers had laid +bare the ugly wound in the lad's white arm. But now came Mrs. Trapes, +looking taller and bonier than ever in a long, very woolly garment, and +while she aided Hermione to bandage the wound, Ravenslee brought water +and brandy, and very soon Spike sighed and opened his eyes. + +"Hello, Hermy!" he said faintly. "Don't worry, I'm all O. K. Bud shot +me an' I'm glad, because now I can ask you t' forgive me. Y' see, he'd +have got old Geoff sure if it hadn't been for me, so you--you will +forgive me, won't you?" + +For answer Hermione bent and kissed his pallid cheek. + +"I'll go and 'phone for the doctor," said Ravenslee. + +"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, "I done ten minutes ago, Mr. Geoffrey. +Doctor'll be right along." + +Ravenslee turned to Spike. + +"How are you now, old fellow?" + +"Only a bit sick, like. But say, Geoff--I know I played it low down on +you, but--will you--shake an' try t' forget?" + +Ravenslee took and held the boy's outstretched hand. + +"I think we're going to be better friends than ever, Spike!" + +"Good!" said Spike, smiling wearily, "but say, Geoff--dear old Geoff--if +I got t' die I don't mind--because I guess this makes us quits at +last--don't it, Geoff?" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +RETRIBUTION + + +Half-stunned by a blow from Joe's mighty fist, M'Ginnis saw Heine +felled by Spider, who, having promptly and scientifically kicked him +unconscious, snatched the revolver from his lax fingers and turned to +pursue. As he came M'Ginnis fired rapidly but, dazed by the blow, his +aim was wild, so he turned and ran, with the Spider in hot pursuit. The +moon was down, and it was very dark, and soon M'Ginnis found himself in +the denser gloom of trees. On he ran, twisting and doubling, on and on, +until spent and breathless, he paused to hearken. Far away, voices +shouted to each other, voices that gradually grew more distant; so, +finally having caught his breath, M'Ginnis went on again. But the wood +was full of noises--strange rustling and sudden, soft night sounds--and +at every sound the fugitive paused to listen, finger on trigger. And +ever as he went the wild blood throbbed and pulsed within his brain, +sounding now like the pad-pad of pursuing feet that would not be shaken +off, and again like a voice that mumbled and muttered querulous words in +the air about him, and at such times he glanced around upon the dark, +but the words would not be stilled: + +"She's married--married--married! You drove her into his arms--you +did--you did--you did! And he's alive still and with her, +alive--alive--alive!" + +And sometimes as he stumbled along through that place of gloom, he +cursed bitterly beneath his breath, and sometimes he ground sweating +jaws since needs must he hearken to that taunting devil-voice: + +"Alive and with his wife beside him--alive! And yours the +fault--yours--yours! Your shot at Spike so near the house lost you the +game--lost--lost! Your shot at Spike was a call for help--saved the life +of the man you came to kill! Your shot at Spike lost you the +game--lost--lost!" + +So, followed by the pad-pad of running feet, haunted by the querulous +demon-voice, M'Ginnis stumbled out upon the road--a lonely road at most +times but quite desolate at this hour. The fugitive hastened along, +dogged by sounds that none but he might hear, yet to him these sounds +were dreadfully real, so real that once, goaded to a paroxysm of blind +fury, he whirled about and fired wildly--a shot that seemed to split +asunder the deep night silence, filling it with a thousand echoes. Once +more he turned and ran, ran until his breath laboured painfully and the +sweat ran from him, but ever the sounds were close about him. + +At last he beheld lights that moved, and reaching a way-side halt, +clambered aboard a late trolley and crouched as far from the light as +possible. But even so, his disordered dress, his pallor, and the wild +glare of his eyes drew the idle glances of the few passengers. + +"Looks like you'd been through th' mill, bo!" said one, a great, rough +fellow; but meeting M'Ginnis's answering glare, he quailed and shrank +away. + +Dawn was at hand when at last he reached O'Rourke's saloon and, letting +himself in, strode into the bar. The place was deserted at this hour, +but from a room hard by came the sound of voices, hoarse laughter, and +the rattle of chips that told a poker game was still in progress. + +Scowling, M'Ginnis stood awhile to listen. Then, lifting the flap of the +bar, he passed through the narrow door beyond, along the passage and so +to that dingy office, from the open door of which a light streamed. + +Scowling still, M'Ginnis strode in, then stood suddenly still, lifted +his right hand toward his breast, then paused as Soapy, turning about in +the swing chair, took a heavy, ivory-handled revolver from where it had +lain on the desk beside a packet of letters tied up in a faded blue +ribbon. + +"Lock th' door, Bud, lock th' door!" said he softly. "So!" he nodded, +as M'Ginnis obeyed. "'N' say, Bud, take that hand away from y'r gun +an'--keep it away--see?" And the lamplight glittered on the long barrel +that rested on Soapy's knee. + +"So--this is th' game--hey?" demanded M'Ginnis hoarsely, his bloodshot +eyes fixed on Soapy unwinkingly. + +"'S right, Bud. Y' see, I been takin' a peek int' that little tin safe +o' yours--say, it looks like you'd had a bit of a rough house, Bud!" + +Soapy's cigarette quivered and was still again, while M'Ginnis watched +him, breathing thickly but speaking no word, and Soapy went on again: + +"I been takin' a peek into that little tin safe o' yours, an' I found +some papers you'd been kind o' treasurin' up about me, so I burnt 'em, +Bud--not as they mattered very much, there ain't nobody t' worry when +I snuff it--but I found as you'd got other papers about other guys as +would matter some t' them, I guess--so I burnt 'em too, Bud." + +"Burnt 'em!" cried M'Ginnis in a strangled voice, "burnt 'em--you--" + +"It ain't no use t' get riled, Bud; I burnt 'em--there's th' ashes!" + +M'Ginnis glanced at the heap of ash by the stove and burst into a frenzy +of curses and fierce invective, while Soapy, lounging back in the chair, +watched him unmoved until he had done, then he spoke again: + +"Also I found--letters, Bud, a packet tied up in blue ribbon--an', Bud, +they matter a whole lot. Here they are--look at 'em!" + +For a moment Soapy's baleful eye turned aside to the desk as he reached +for the letters, and in that moment M'Ginnis's pistol spoke, and Soapy, +lurching sideways, sagged to his knees, his back against the desk. Again +and again M'Ginnis's weapon clicked, but no report followed, and Soapy +slowly dragged himself to his feet. His cigarette fell and lay +smouldering, and for a moment he stared at it; then he laughed softly +and glanced at M'Ginnis. + +"You fool, Bud, you dog-gone fool! Forgot t' load up y'r gun, eh? But I +guess you got me all right, anyway--you're shootin' better t'night than +you did in the wood that time--eh, Bud? Now I want t' tell you--" He was +choked suddenly with a ghastly coughing, and when he spoke again, his +voice was fainter, and he held a smartly-bordered handkerchief to his +mouth. + +"They say God made this world, Bud--if He did, I guess He was asleep +when you was made, Bud--anyway, remembering little Maggie, you ain't got +no right to breathe any longer--so that's for me--an' that's for her!" + +Lounging still, he fired twice from the hip and M'Ginnis, twisting upon +his heels, fell and lay with his face at his slayer's feet. Then, spying +the packet of letters that lay upon the grimy floor, Soapy stooped +painfully and fired rapidly four times; when the smoke cleared, of those +tear-blotted pages with their secret of a woman's anguish, there +remained nothing but a charred piece of ribbon and a few smouldering +fragments of paper. And now Soapy was seized with another fit of +coughing, above which he heard hoarse shouts and hands that thundered +at the door. Lazily he stood upon his feet, turned to glance from that +scorched ribbon to the still form upon the floor and, lifting a lazy +foot, ground his heel into that still face, then, crossing unsteadily to +the door, unlocked it. Beyond was a crowd, very silent now, who drew +back to give him way, but Soapy paused in the doorway and leaned there a +moment. + +"What's doin'?" cried a voice. + +"Say, run f'r a doctor, somebody--quick--Soapy's hurt bad, I reckon--" + +"Hurt?" said Soapy, in soft, lazy tones. "'S right! But--say--fellers, +there's a son of a dog in there--waitin' f'r a spade--t' bury him!" Then +Soapy laughed, choked, and groping before him blindly, staggered +forward, and pitching sideways, fell with his head beneath a table and +died there. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +OF THE OLD UN AND FATE + + +Spike leaned back among his cushions and, glancing away across +close-cropped lawns and shady walks, sighed luxuriously. + +"Say, Ann," he remarked. "Gee whiz, Trapesy, there sure ain't no flies +on this place of old Geoff's!" + +"Flies," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her household accounts, "you +go into the kitchen an' look around." + +"I mean it's aces up." + +"Up where?" queried Mrs. Trapes. + +"Well, it's a regular Jim-dandy cracker-jack--some swell clump, eh?" + +"Arthur, that low, tough talk don't go with me," said Mrs. Trapes, and +resumed her intricate calculations again. + +"Say, when'll Geoff an' Hermy be back?" + +"Well, considerin' she's gone to N' York t' buy more clo'es as she don't +need, an' considerin' Mr. Ravenslee's gone with her, I don't know." + +"An' what you do know don't cut no ice. Anyway, I'm gettin' lonesome." + +"What, ain't I here?" demanded Mrs. Trapes sharply. + +"Sure. I can't lose you!" + +"Oh! Now I'll tell you what it is, my good b'y--" + +"Cheese it, Trapes, you make me tired, that's what." + +"If you sass me, I'll box your young ears--an' that's what!" + +"I don't think!" added Spike. "Nobody ain't goin' t' box me. I'm a sure +enough invalid, and don't you forget it." + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "a bit of a hole in his arm, that's +all." + +"Well, I wish you got it, 'stead o' me--it smarts like sixty!" + +"Shows it's healin'. Doctor said as it'll be well in a week." + +"Doctor!" sniffed Spike, "he don't know what I suffer. I may be dyin' +for all he knows." + +"You are!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, with a gloomy nod. + +"Eh--what?" exclaimed Spike, sitting up. + +"So am I--we all are--by the minute. Every night we're a day's march +nearer home! So now jest set right there an' go on dyin', my b'y!" + +"Say, now, cut it out," said Spike, wriggling. "That ain't no kind o' +way t' cheer an invalid." + +"It's th' truth." + +"Well, it don't cheer me more, so let's have a lie for a change." + +Mrs. Trapes snorted and fell to adding and subtracting busily. + +"Say, Ann," said he after awhile, "if you got any more o' that punkin +pie I could do some right now. I'm hungry." + +"It ain't eatin' time yet." + +"But--Gee! ain't I a invalid?" + +"Sure! Consequently you must be fed slow an' cautious." + +"Oh, fudge! What's th' good of a guy bein' a invalid if a guy can't feed +when he wants to?" + +"What's a hundred an' ninety-one from twenty-three?" enquired Mrs. +Trapes. + +"Skidoo!" murmured Spike sulkily. But after Mrs. Trapes had subtracted +and added busily he spoke again. + +"You ain't such a bad old gink--sometimes," he conceded. + +"Gink?" said Mrs. Trapes, glaring. + +"I mean you can be a real daisy when you want to." + +"Can I?" + +"Sure! Sometimes you can be so kind an' nice I like you a whole lot!" + +"Is that so?" + +"You bet it is--honest Injun." + +"Arthur, if it's that pie you want--" + +"It ain't!" + +"Well, what is it?" + +"How d' ye know I want anything?" + +"Oh, I just guess, maybe." + +"Well, say--if you could cop me one o' Geoff's cigarettes--one o' them +with gold letterin' onto 'em--" + +"You mean--thieve you one!" + +"Why, no, a cigarette ain't thievin'. Say, now, dear old Trapesy, I'm +jest dyin' for a gasper!" + +"Well, you go on dyin', an' I'll set right here an' watch how you do +it." + +"If I was t' die you'd be sorry for this, I reckon." + +"Anyway, I'd plant some flowers on you, my lad, an' keep your lonely +grave nice--" + +"Huh!" sniffed Spike, "a lot o' good that 'ud do me when I was busy +pushin' up th' daisies. It's what I want now that matters." + +"An' what you want now, Arthur, is a rod of iron--good 'n' heavy. +Discipline's your cryin' need, an' you're sure goin' t' get it." + +"Oh? Where?" + +"At college! My land, think of you at Yale or Harvard or C'lumbia--" + +"Sure you can think; thinkin' can't cut no ice." + +"Anyway, you're goin' soon as you're fit; Mr. Geoffrey says so." + +"Oh, Geoff's batty--he's talkin' in his sleep. I ain't goin' t' no +college--Geoff's got sappy in th' bean--" + +"Well, you tell him so." + +"Sure thing--you watch me!" + +"No, I'll get you somethin' t' eat--some milk an'--" + +"Say, what about that punkin pie?" + +"You sit right there an' wait." + +"Chin-Chin!" nodded Spike, and watched her into the house. + +No sooner was he alone than he was out of his chair and, descending the +steps into the garden, sped gleefully away across lawns and along +winding paths, following a haphazard course. But, as he wandered thus, +he came to the stables and so to a large building beyond, where were +many automobiles of various patterns and make; and here, very busy +with brushes, sponge, and water, washing a certain car and making a +prodigious splashing, was a figure there was no mistaking, and one whom +Spike hailed in joyous surprise. + +"Well, well, if it ain't th' old Spider! Gee, but I'm glad t' see you! +Say, old sport, I'm a invalid--pipe my bandages, will ye?" + +"Huh!" grunted the Spider, without glancing up from the wheel he was +washing. + +"Say, old lad," continued Spike, "I guess they told you how I put it all +over Bud, eh?" + +"Mph!" said the Spider, slopping the water about. + +"Heard how I saved old Geoff from gettin' snuffed out, didn't yer?" + +"Huh-umph!" growled the Spider. + +"That's sure some car, eh? Gee, but it's good t' see you again, anyway. +How'd you come here, Spider?" + +"U-huh!" said the Spider. + +"Say," exclaimed Spike, "quit makin' them noises an' say somethin', +can't yer? If you can't talk t' a pal, I'm goin'." + +"Right-o, Kid!" said the Spider; "only see as you don't go sheddin' no +more buttons around." + +"B-buttons!" stammered Spike. "What yer mean? What buttons?" + +The Old Un, who happened to have been dozing in the limousine that stood +in a shady corner, sat up suddenly and blinked. + +"Why, I mean," answered the Spider, wringing water from the sponge he +held and speaking very deliberately, "I mean the button as you--left +behind you--in th' wood!" + +Spike gasped and sat down weakly upon the running-board of a car, and +the Old Un stole a furtive peep at him. + +"So you--know--?" + +"Sure I know--more 'n I want t' know about you, so--chase yourself out +o' here--beat it!" + +Spike stared in mute amazement, then flushed painfully. + +"You mean--you an' me--ain't goin' t' be pals no longer?" he asked +wistfully. + +"That's what!" nodded the Spider, without lifting his scowling gaze from +the sponge. "Kid, I ain't no Gold-medal Sunday-school scholar nor I +ain't never won no prizes at any Purity League conference, but there's +some guys too rotten even f'r me!" + +"But I--I--saved his life, didn't I?" + +"That ain't nothin' t' blow about after what you did in that wood. Oh, +wake up an' see just how dirty an' rotten you are!" + +Spike rose and stood, his hands tight-clenched, and though he tried to +frown, he couldn't hide the pitiful twitching of his lips nor the quaver +in his voice. + +"I guess you mean you're goin' t' give me th' throw-down?" + +"Well," answered the Spider, scowling at the sponge in his hand, +"there's jest two or three things as I ain't got no use for, an' one +of 'em's--murder!" + +Hereupon Spike shrank away, and the Old Un, reaching out stealthily, +opened the door of the limousine while the Spider fell to work again, +splashing more than ever. Thus as Spike crept away with head a-droop, +the Old Un, all unnoticed, stole after him, his old eyes very bright and +birdlike, and, as he followed, keeping in the shade of hedge and tree as +much as possible, he whispered a word to himself over and over again: + +"Lorgorramighty!" + +But Spike went on with dragging feet, ignorant that any one followed, +lost in a sudden sense of shame such as he had never known before--a +shame that was an agony: for though his bodily eyes were blinded with +bitter tears, the eyes of his mind were opened wide at last, and he saw +himself foul and dirty, even as the Spider had said. So on stumbling +feet Spike reached a shady, grassy corner remote from all chance of +observation and, throwing himself down there, he lay with his face +hidden, wetting the grass with the tears of his abasement. + +When at last he raised his head, he beheld a little old man leaning +patiently against a tree near by and watching him with a pair of baleful +eyes. + +"Hello!" said Spike wearily. "Who are you?" + +"I'm Fate, I am!" nodded the Old Un. "Persooin' Fate, that's me." + +"What yer here for, anyway?" enquired the lad, humble in his abasement. + +"I'm here to persoo!" + +"Say, now, what's your game; what yer want?" + +"I want you, me lad." + +"Well, say--beat it, please--I want t' be alone." + +"Not much, me lad. I'm Fate, I am, an' when Fate comes up agin murder, +Fate ain't t' be shook off." + +"Murder!" gasped Spike. "Oh, my God! I--I ain't--" + +The lad sprang to his feet and was running on the instant, but turning +to glance back, tripped over some obstacle and fell. Swaying he rose and +stumbled on, but slower now by reason of the pain in his wounded arm. +Thus, when at last he came out upon the road, the Old Un was still close +behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +IN WHICH GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE OBTAINS HIS OBJECT + + +Mrs. Trapes glanced sadly around her cosy housekeeper's room and sighed +regretfully; she was alone, and upon the table ready to hand lay her +neat bonnet, her umbrella, and a pair of white cotton gloves, beholding +which articles her lips set more resolutely, her bony arms folded +themselves more tightly, and she nodded in grim determination. + +"The labourer is worthy of his hire!" she sighed, apparently addressing +the bonnet, "but, if so be the labourer ain't worthy, why then, the +sooner he quits--" + +A sound of quick, light feet upon the stair and a voice that laughed +gaily, a laugh so full of happiness that even Mrs. Trapes's iron +features relaxed, and her grim mouth curved in her rare smile. At that +moment the door opened and Hermione appeared, a radiant Hermione who +clasped Mrs. Trapes in her arms and tangled her up in her long motor +veil and laughed again. + +"Oh, Ann, such a day!" she exclaimed, laying aside her long dust-coat. +"New York is a paradise--when you're rich! No more bargain days and +clawing matches over the remnant counter, Ann! Oh, it's wonderful to be +able to buy anything I want--anything! Think of it, Ann, isn't it just +a dream of joy? And I've shopped and shopped, and he was so dear and +patient! I bought Arthur a complete outfit--" + +"Arthur!" said Mrs. Trapes, and groaned. + +"And you, Ann, you dear thing, I bought you--guess what? But you never +could! I bought you a gold watch, the very best I could find, and he +bought you a chain for it, a long one to go around your dear neck, set +with diamonds and rubies, I mean the chain is--it's the cutest thing, +Ann! You remember you used to dream of a gold chain set with real +diamonds, some day? Well, 'some day's' to-day, Ann." + +"But--oh, Hermy, I--I--" + +"He wants to give it you himself, because he says you're the best friend +he ever had and--oh, here he is! You did say so, didn't you, Geoffrey?" + +"And I surely mean it!" answered Ravenslee, tossing his driving +gauntlets into a chair, "though you certainly threw cold water upon my +peanut barrow, didn't you, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Oh, Geoffrey, dear, do give her that precious package; I'm dying to see +her open it!" + +So Ravenslee drew the jeweller's neat parcel from his pocket and put +it into Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand. For a moment her bony fingers +clutched it, then she sighed tremulously and, placing it on the table, +rose and stood staring down at it. When at last she spoke, her voice was +harsher than usual. + +"Hermy, dear--I mean Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, I--can't--take 'em!" + +"But, dear--why not?" + +"Because they're coals o' fire." + +"But you must take them, dear; we bought them for you and--" + +"Which jools, ma'am, I can in no wise accept." + +"Why, Ann, dear, whatever--" + +"Which jools, ma'am, having been a dream, must for me so remain, me not +bein' faithful in my dooties to you an' Mr. Geoffrey. Consequently I +begs to tender you now my resignation, yieldin' up my post in your +service to one better worthy, and returnin' t' th' place wherefrom I +come." + +Here Mrs. Trapes put on her bonnet, setting it a little askew in her +agitation. + +"Th' labourer is worthy of his hire, but if he ain't--so be it!" + +Here Mrs. Trapes tied her bonnet strings so tightly and with such +resolute hands that she choked. + +"Why, Ann dear," cried Hermione, "whatever do you mean? As if I could +bear to part with you!" Here she untied the bonnet strings. "As if I +could ever let you go back to Mulligan's!" Here she took off the bonnet. +"As if I could ever forget all your tender love and care for me in the +days when things were so hard and so very dark!" Here she tossed the +bonnet into a corner. + +"My land!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, "me best bonnet--" + +"I know, Ann. I made it for you over a year ago, and it's time you had +another, anyway! Now, open that parcel--this minute!" + +But instead of doing so, Mrs. Trapes sank down in the chair beside the +table and bowed her head in her hands. + +"Hermy," said she, "oh, my lamb, he's gone! You left Arthur in my care +an'--he's gone, an' it's my fault. Went away at five o'clock, an' here +it is nigh on to ten--an' him sick! God knows I've searched for +him--tramped to th' ferry an' back, an' th' footmen they've looked for +him an' so have th' maids--but Arthur's gone--an' it's my fault! So, +Hermy--my dear--blame me an' let me go--" + +The harsh voice broke and, bowing her head, she sat silent, touching the +unopened packet of jewellery with one long, bony finger. + +"Why, Ann--dear Ann--you're crying!" Hermione was down on her knees, +had clasped that long bony figure in her arms. "You mustn't, Ann, you +mustn't. I'm sure it wasn't your fault, so don't grieve, dear--there!" +And she had drawn the disconsolate grey head down upon her shoulder and +pillowed it there. + +"But--oh, Hermy, he's gone! An' you told me to--look after him." + +"Ann, if Arthur meant to go, I'm sure you couldn't have prevented him; +he isn't a child any longer, dear. There, be comforted--we'll hunt for +him in the car--won't we, Geoffrey?" + +"Of course," nodded Ravenslee, "I'll 'phone the garage right away." + +But as he opened the door he came face to face with Joe, who touched an +eyebrow and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. + +"S'cuse me, sir," said he, "but it's that Old Un, covered wi' dust 'e +is, sir, an' wants a word wi' you. And, sir, 'e 's that mysterious as +never was. Shall I let him come in, sir?" + +"You try an' keep me out, my lad, that's all!" panted the Old Un, +ducking under Joe's great arm, "I'm better man nor ever you'll be!" + +So saying, the Old Un hobbled forward and, sinking into the nearest +armchair, fanned himself with his hat, which, like the rest of his +garments, bore the dust of travel. + +"Greetin's, Guv!" said he, when he had caught his breath. "'Ere I be--a +old man as 'as done more for ye than all th' young 'uns put t'gether. +Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, best respex!" + +"And what have you been doing now?" enquired Ravenslee, smiling. + +"Well, Guv, I been an' got th' murderer for ye, that's all!" + +Hermione caught her breath suddenly and gazed at the fierce, dusty old +man with eyes full of growing terror; beholding which Ravenslee frowned, +then laughed lightly and, seating himself on a corner of the table, +swung his leg to and fro. + +"So you've found him out, have you, Old Un?" + +"Ah, that I have!" + +"Are you sure?" + +"Ah, quite sure, Guv." + +"Well, where is he--trot him out." + +"'E's comin' along--th' Spider's bringin' un. Ye see, he's a bit wore +out same as I am--we been trampin' all th' arternoon. Look at me shoes, +that's th' worst o' patent leather--they shows th' dust. Joe, my lad, +jest give 'em a flick over with ye wipe." + +But at this moment steps were heard slowly approaching, and Hermione +uttered an inarticulate cry, then spoke in an agonised whisper: +"Arthur!" + +Pallid of cheek and drooping of head Spike stood in the doorway, his +shabby, threadbare clothes dusty and travel-stained, his slender shape +encircled by the Spider's long arm. At Hermione's cry he lifted his head +and looked up yearningly, his sensitive mouth quivered, his long-lashed +eyes swam in sudden tears, he strove to speak but choked instead; then +Ravenslee's calm, pleasant voice broke the painful silence. + +"Old Un," said he, rising, "I understand you are fond of jam--well, from +now on you shall bathe in it if you wish." + +"Spoke like a true sport, Guv!" + +"Why, you see, you have surely done me a very great service." + +"Meanin' because I found ye th' murderer." + +"Murderer?" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring. + +"Why, yes--there 'e is!" and the old man pointed a long finger at the +shrinking Spike. + +"Old Un," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "don't joke with me--" + +"I--I ain't jokin', Guv," cried the Old Un, rising. "Why--oh, +Lorgorramighty, you don't mean t' say as this ain't 'im? Why, 'e 's +confessed, Guv; I 'eard 'im!" + +Ravenslee smiled gently and shook his head again. + +"But he has been sick, Old Un; he was hurt, you know, when he saved my +life." + +"But, Lord, Guv, if 'e 's confessed--" + +"He has been sick, Old Un, and when we are sick the wisest of us are apt +to say silly things--even I did, so they tell me." + +"What?" quavered the old man, "ain't I--ain't I found no murderer for +ye, arter all, Guv?" + +"You've done something much, very much better, Old Un--you've found me +my brother!" + +"Brother!" echoed Spike, "brother? Oh, Geoff--" he sighed deeply, and +as Ravenslee crossed toward him he smiled wanly and sank swooning into +the supporting arms of the Spider, who at a word from Hermione bore the +boy up-stairs; but scarcely was he laid upon his bed than he opened his +heavy eyes. + +"Say, Spider," said he wearily, "old Geoff sure does play square--even +to a worm like me--well, I guess! No, don't go yet, I want yer to hear +me try to explain the kind o' dirty dog I been--I guess he won't want +t' call me 'brother' after that; no, siree, he'll cut me out same as you +have an' serve me right too." Then turning toward where Ravenslee and +Hermione stood he continued: "Geoff--Hermy, dear--ah, no, don't touch +me, I ain't worth it. I'm too dirty--Spider says so--an' I guess he's +right. Listen--I meant t' go away t'day an' leave you because I felt so +mean, but th' old man followed me, an' I couldn't run because my arm +pained some--y' see, I fell on it. So I let him bring me back because I +guess it's up t' me t' let you know as I ain't fit t' be your brother, +Geoff--or Hermy's." For a moment Spike paused, then with an effort he +continued but kept his face averted. "Geoff, it was me--in the wood that +time! Yes, it was me, an' I had a gun. I--I meant--t' do you in, Geoff--" + +Spike's voice failed and he was silent again, plucking nervously at the +sheet, while Hermione's proud head drooped and her hands clasped and +wrung each other in an agony of shame; but to these painfully rigid +hands came another hand, big and strong yet very gentle, at whose +soothing touch those agonised fingers grew lax and soft, then clung +to that strong hand in sudden, eager passion. + +"Poor old Spike!" said Ravenslee, and his tone was as gentle as his +touch. + +"But--but, Geoff," stammered the boy. "I--oh, don't you see? I meant +to--kill you?" + +"Yes, I understand; you thought I deserved it--why?" + +"Oh, I was crazy, I guess! Bud told me lies--an' I believed him--lies +about you an' Hermy--he said--you'd make Hermy go--the same road--little +Maggie Finlay went--so I came t' kill you--" + +"Spike, if you believed that, if you really believed that, I don't blame +you for trying a shot--" + +"But I didn't--I couldn't! When I saw you sittin' there so unsuspectin', +I just couldn't do it--I tried to, but I couldn't. An' somehow I dropped +th' gun, an' then I heard a shot, an' when I looked up I saw you throw +out your arms an' fall--my God, I'll never forget that! Then I saw Bud +starin' down at you an' th' pistol smokin' in his hand. I meant t' do it +but I couldn't, so Bud did it himself. I'm as bad as him, I reckon, but +it was Bud shot you--Soapy saw him an' knows it was Bud--ask Soapy. An' +now I've told you all; I guess I ain't fit t' stay here any longer." + +Spike's voice choked upon a sob, he buried his face in the pillow, and +so there fell a silence--a strange, tense hush, a pause so unexpected +that he looked up and saw that Hermione's head was bowed no longer, but +she stood, very proud and tall, gazing upon her husband, and in her eyes +was a great and wondrous light; and as she looked on him so he gazed on +her. They had no thought, no eyes for Spike just then, wherefore he hid +his face again. + +"I guess this about puts the kybosh on th' brother business!" he sighed +miserably, "an' I sure ain't fit t' be th' Spider's pal, I reckon!" + +But now the Spider spoke, rather quick and jerkily: + +"Say, Kid--get onto this! I'm takin' back--everything I says t' you +t'day, see? Because, oh, well--I guess you've sure woke up at last! So, +Kid--give us your mitt!" + +Eagerly Spike grasped the Spider's big fist, and they shook hands +gravely and very deliberately, looking into each other's eyes the while. +Then, still quick and jerkily, the Spider turned and hurried out of the +room. Then Spike turned to Ravenslee. + +"Geoff," he sighed, "I'm not goin' to ask you to forgive me yet, I +can't--I'm goin' t' wait an' show you--" + +But as he paused Ravenslee's hand was upon the lad's drooping shoulder. + +"Arthur," said he, "from now on--from to-night--you are going to be my +brother more than ever--a brother we shall both be proud of--what do you +say?" + +But Spike's eyes were wet, his mouth quivered, and instead of answering +he buried his face in the pillow again. + +"Say, Hermy," he mumbled, "take him away before I do th' tear-gushin' +act! Take him down-stairs--give him a drink--light him a +cigarette--kiss him! Only take him away before I get mushy. But, +say--when I'm in bed, you'll--you'll come an'--say good night like--like +you used to, Hermy dear?" + +Swiftly she stooped and kissed that curly head. + +"I'll come--oh, I'll come, boy, dear!" she murmured, and left him with +Mrs. Trapes. + +Down-stairs the fire glowed, filling the room with shadows, and side by +side they stood looking down into the heart of the fire and were silent +awhile, and, though she was so near, he didn't touch her. + +"So it wasn't Arthur, after all!" he said at last. + +"No," she answered softly, "it wasn't Arthur--thank God!" + +"Amen!" said he, so fervently that she glanced up at him swiftly, then +looked into the fire again. Seeing how the colour deepened in her cheek, +he came a little nearer; but still he didn't touch her; instead, he took +out tobacco pouch and pipe and began to fill it with strangely clumsy +fingers, and Hermione saw that his hands were trembling. + +"Let me!" she said gently. So he surrendered pipe and pouch and, +watching, saw that her hands trembled also; when at last she had filled +the pipe, he took it and laid it on the table. + +"Aren't you going to smoke, dear?" + +"No, not now. You'll remember that Arthur also suggested you should--" + +"Give you something to drink!" she added a little breathlessly and +crossed to the cellaret in the corner. "Will you have brandy and soda?" + +"Thanks--yes--that will do," he answered absently, and when she +dutifully brought the filled glass he took it and set it down untasted +beside the pipe. + +"Why, Geoffrey!" she said in murmurous surprise, "aren't you thirsty?" + +"No, not now. You will probably remember that Arthur also suggested you +should--" + +"I know!" she breathed, "but, oh, Geoffrey, dear--wait--just a little +longer." + +"Why?" he demanded hoarsely. + +"Because!" she answered, staring down at her clasped hands. + +"Why?" + +"Because, my Geoffrey, if--if I let myself--kiss you now, I--shall never +be able to--tear myself away, and I must say good night to Arthur and--" + +She paused as a knock sounded on the door, and Mrs. Trapes appeared. + +"Why, dear land o' my fathers!" she exclaimed. "Ain't you had time t' +take off your bonnet yet, Hermy?" + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed Hermione, "I forgot it!" So saying, off it +came, and there was the curl above her eyebrow more wantonly alluring +than ever. + +"An' there's that blessed b'y," continued Mrs. Trapes, "a-layin' +up-stairs yearnin' for you, Hermy, an' him s' pale an' gentle--God bless +him! An' it now bein' exackly twenty-two an' a half minutes past 'leven +by my beautiful new watch as ticks most musical! Time as you was in +bed--both of you! an' that reminds me, Hermy, I sent your maid t' bed +like you told me, an' with my own two hands I laid out one o' them +lovely noo nightdresses--the one with the short sleeves an' lace as you +showed me last night an'--Land sakes, she's gone! Think o' that now--my, +my! Mrs. Ravenslee's wonderful quick an' light on her feet, Mr. +Geoffrey!" + +Here Mrs. Trapes raised the watch to her ear and hearkened to its tick +again, smiling at Ravenslee's broad back as he turned to reach his +glass. + +"Them nightdresses," she sighed, "as is all fluffs an' frills an' +openwork, may be all right when you're young, but for true comfort give +me--flannel, every time." + +Here Ravenslee, in the act of sipping his brandy and soda, choked; when +at last he glanced around, Mrs. Trapes was gone. + +Then he drew a chair to the fire and, sitting down, took up his pipe and +tried to light it, but Hermione's nervous white fingers had packed it +too tightly for mortal suction, whereat he sighed and, yielding to the +impossible, sat with it in his hand, lost in happy thought and waiting +for the swift light footsteps he yearned to hear. + +The clock in the hall without struck midnight, but long after the mellow +chime had died away he sat there waiting; but the great house lay very +still about him, and no sound broke the pervading quiet. Wherefore at +last he grew restless, frowned at the dying fire, and his strong fingers +clenched themselves fiercely about the pipe they still held. + +All at once he started, rose to his feet, and turned toward the door +eager-eyed, as a hand knocked softly; before he could speak it opened, +and Mrs. Trapes reappeared; she was clad in a long flannel dressing +gown, and as she paused in the shadows by the door he could vaguely +define that she still held the precious watch to her ear. + +"It do tick that musical," she said, "an' I can't sleep this night till +I've tried t' thank ye both for--for all your goodness to a lonely +woman. Ah, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess th' day as you came seekin' lodgin's at +my little flat was a good day for Ann Angelina Trapes--why, my land, Mr. +Geoffrey--ain't Hermy here?" + +"No," answered Ravenslee a little bitterly. "Oh, no, I'm quite alone--as +usual, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Why, now, that's queer!" + +"How queer?" + +"Because I've jest been into her bedroom, an' there's her things--except +that nightdress--but she--ain't!" + +"Not there? She must be! Did you look in--her bed?" + +"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey--her bed ain't been tetched!" + +"Then where in the world is she?" + +"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, consulting her watch again, "it is now exactly +fifteen and three-quarter minutes after midnight, so I guess she's in +bed somewhere. But this is a big house, an' there's lots of bedrooms, so +if I was you, I'd go an' look--till I found her--" + +Ravenslee was at the door so swiftly that Mrs. Trapes started, and she +saw his eyes were very bright, and the hands he laid on her bony +shoulders were quivering. + +"Mrs. Trapes," said he, "I will!" + +Then he stooped, very suddenly, and kissed the thin, grey hair above her +grim eyebrow, and so--was gone. + +"Find her?" mused Mrs. Trapes, glancing after him up the wide stairs. +"Why, yes, I guess he will sure find her--where she should have been +weeks ago. Lord, what a silly, beautiful, lovely thing love is!" and she +stood awhile smiling down into the fire, and her smile was very tender. + +Then she sighed, switched off the lights, and went softly away. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFINITE OBJECT*** + + +******* This file should be named 16074-8.txt or 16074-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/0/7/16074 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Definite Object</p> +<p> A Romance of New York</p> +<p>Author: Jeffery Farnol</p> +<p>Release Date: June 15, 2005 [eBook #16074]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFINITE OBJECT***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by David Kline, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (https://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE DEFINITE OBJECT</h1> + +<h3><i>A Romance of New York</i></h3> + +<h2>By Jeffery Farnol</h2> + +<p>Author of <span class="smcap">The Broad Highway, The Amateur Gentleman, The Honourable +Mr. Tawnish, Beltane the Smith</span></p> + +<h3>1917</h3> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I--Which Describes, among Other Things, a Pair of Whiskers</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II--Of a Mournful Millionaire Who Lacked an Object</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III--How Geoffrey Ravenslee Went Seeking an Object</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV--Telling How He Came to Hell's Kitchen at Peep o' Day</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V--How Mrs. Trapes Acquired a New Lodger, Despite her Elbows</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI--How Spike Initiated Mr. Ravenslee into the Gentle Art of Shopping</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII--Concerning Ankles, Stairs, and Neighbourliness</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII--Of Candies and Confidences</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX--Which Recounts the End of an Episode</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X--Tells How Mr. Ravenslee Went into Trade</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI--Antagonism is Born and War Declared</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII--Containing Some Description of a Supper Party</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII--Wherein may be Found Some Particulars of the Beautiful City of Perhaps</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV--Of a Text, a Letter, and a Song</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV--Which Introduces Joe and the Old Un</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI--Of the First and Second Persons, Singular Number</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII--How Geoffrey Ravenslee Made a Deal in Real Estate</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII--How Spike Hearkened to Poisonous Suggestion and Soapy Began to Wonder</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX--In which the Poison Begins to Work</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX--Of an Expedition by Night</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI--How M'Ginnis Threatened and—Went</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII--Tells of an Early Morning Visit and a Warning</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII--Chiefly Concerning a Letter</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV--How the Old Un and Certain Others had Tea</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV--How Spike Made a Choice and a Promise</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI--Which Makes Further Mention of a Ring</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII--Mrs. Trapes Upon the Millennium</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII--Which should have Related Details of a Wedding</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX--In which Hermione Makes a Fateful Decision</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX--How Geoffrey Ravenslee Departed from Hell's Kitchen</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI--In which Soapy Takes a Hand</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII--Of Harmony and Discord</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII--Of Tragedy</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV--Of Remorse</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV--How Geoffrey Ravenslee Came Out of the Dark</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI--Concerning a Clew</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII--The Woes of Mr. Brimberly</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII--In which Soapy Takes upon Himself a New Role</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX--The Old Un Advises and Ravenslee Acts</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XL">CHAPTER XL--Concerning a Handful of Pebbles</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">CHAPTER XLI--Of a Packet of Letters</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">CHAPTER XLII--Tells How Ravenslee Broke his Word and Why</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">CHAPTER XLIII--How Spike Got Even</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">CHAPTER XLIV--Retribution</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">CHAPTER XLV--Of the Old Un and Fate</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">CHAPTER XLVI--In which Geoffrey Ravenslee Obtains his Object</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><a name="THE_DEFINITE_OBJECT" id="THE_DEFINITE_OBJECT"></a>THE DEFINITE OBJECT</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>WHICH DESCRIBES, AMONG OTHER THINGS, A PAIR OF WHISKERS</h3> + + +<p>In the writing of books, as all the world knows, two things are above +all other things essential—the one is to know exactly when and where to +leave off, and the other to be equally certain when and where to begin.</p> + +<p>Now this book, naturally enough, begins with Mr. Brimberly's whiskers; +begins at that moment when he coughed and pulled down his waistcoat for +the first time. And yet (since action is as necessary to the success of +a book as to life itself) it should perhaps begin more properly at the +psychological moment when Mr. Brimberly coughed and pulled down the +garment aforesaid for the third time, since it is then that the real +action of this story commences.</p> + +<p>Be that as it may, it is beyond all question that nowhere in this wide +world could there possibly be found just such another pair of whiskers +as those which adorned the plump cheeks of Mr. Brimberly; without them +he might have been only an ordinary man, but, possessing them, he was +the very incarnation of all that a butler could possibly be.</p> + +<p>And what whiskers these were! So soft, so fleecy, so purely white, that +at times they almost seemed like the wings of cherubim, striving to soar +away and bear Mr. Brimberly into a higher and purer sphere. Again, what +Protean whiskers were these, whose fleecy pomposity could overawe the +most superior young footmen and reduce page-boys, tradesmen, and the +lower orders generally, to a state of perspiring humility; to his +equals how calmly aloof, how blandly dignified; and to those a misguided +fate had set above him, how demurely deferential, how obligingly +obsequious! Indeed, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers were all things to all men, +and therein lay their potency.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly then, pompous, affable, and most sedate, having motioned +his visitor into his master's favourite chair, set down the tray of +decanters and glasses upon the piano, coughed, and pulled down his +waistcoat; and Mr. Brimberly did it all with that air of portentous +dignity and leisurely solemnity which, together with his whiskers, made +him the personality he was.</p> + +<p>"And you're still valeting for Barberton, are you, Mr. Stevens?" he +blandly enquired.</p> + +<p>"I've been with his lordship six months, now," nodded Mr. Stevens.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mr. Brimberly, opening a certain carved cabinet and reaching +thence a box of his master's choicest Havanas, "six months, indeed! And +'ow is Barberton? I hacted in the capacity of his confidential valet a +good many years ago, as I told you, and we always got on very well +together, very well, indeed. 'ow is Barberton?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'e 'd be right enough if it warn't for 'is gout which gets 'im in +the big toe now and then, and 'is duns and creditors and sich-like low +fellers, as gets 'im everywhere and constant! 'E'll never be quite +'imself until 'e marries money—and plenty of it!"</p> + +<p>"A American hair-ess!" nodded Mr. Brimberly. "Pre-cisely! I very nearly +married 'im to a rich widder ten years ago. 'E'd 'ave been settled for +life if 'e 'd took my advice! But Barberton was always inclined to be a +little 'eadstrong. The widder in question 'appened to be a trifle +par-say, I'll admit, also it was 'inted that one of 'er—lower limbs was +cork. But then, 'er money, sir—'er jools!" Mr. Brimberly raised eyes +and hands and shook his head until his whiskers quivered in a very +ecstasy.</p> + +<p>"But a wooden leg—" began Mr. Stevens dubiously.</p> + +<p>"I said 'limb', sir!" said Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers distinctly +agitated, "a cork limb, sir! And Lord bless me, a cork limb ain't to +be sniffed at contemptuous when it brings haffluence with it, sir! At +least, my sentiments leans that way."</p> + +<p>"Oh—ditto, certainly, sir! I'd take haffluence to my 'eart if she came +with both le—both of 'em cork, if it meant haffluence like this!" Mr. +Stevens let his pale, prominent eyes wander slowly around the luxuriant +splendour of the room. "My eye!" he exclaimed, "it's easy to see as your +governor don't have to bother about marrying money, cork limbs or +otherwise! Very rich, ain't 'e, Mr. Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly set down the decanter he chanced to be holding, and having +caressed each fluffy whisker, smiled.</p> + +<p>"I think, sir," said he gently, "y-es, I think we may answer 'yes' to +your latter question. I think we may tell you and admit 'ole-'earted and +frank, sir, that the Ravenslee fortune is fab'lous, sir, stoopendious +and himmense!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and his pale eyes, much wider, now +wandered up from the Persian rug beneath his boots to the elaborately +carved ceiling above his head. "My aunt!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think we're fairly comfortable 'ere, sir," nodded Mr. Brimberly +complacently, "yes, fairly comfortable, I think."</p> + +<p>"Comfortable!" ejaculated the awe-struck Mr. Stevens, "I should say so! +My word!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," pursued Mr. Brimberly, "comfortable, and I ventur' to think, +tasteful, sir, for I'll admit young Ravenslee—though a millionaire and +young—'as taste. Observe this costly bricky-brack! Oh, yes, young Har +is a man of taste indoobitably, I think you must admit."</p> + +<p>"Very much so indeed, sir!" answered Mr. Stevens with his pallid glance +on the array of bottles. "'Three Star,' I think, Mr. Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly in gentle reproach, "you 'ere be'old Cognac +brandy as couldn't be acquired for twenty-five dollars the bottle! Then +'ere we 'ave jubilee port, a rare old sherry, and whisky. Now what shall +we make it? You, being like myself, a Englishman in this 'ere land of +eagles, spread and otherwise, suppose we make it a B and a Hess?"</p> + +<p>"By all means!" nodded Mr. Stevens.</p> + +<p>"I was meditating," said Mr. Brimberly, busied with the bottles and +glasses, "I was cogitating calling hup Mr. Jenkins, the Stanways' butler +across the way. The Stanways is common people, parvynoo, Mr. Stevens, +parvynoo, but Mr. Jenkins is very superior and plays the banjer very +affecting. Our 'ousekeeper and the maids is gone to bed, and I've give +our footmen leave of habsence—I thought we might 'ave a nice, quiet +musical hour or so. You perform on the piano-forty, I believe, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Only very occasional!" Mr. Stevens admitted. "But," and here his pale +eyes glanced toward the door, "do I understand as he is out for the +night?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Mr. Brimberly ponderously, "what ''e' might you be pleased +to mean?"</p> + +<p>"I was merely allooding to—to your governor, sir."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly glanced at his guest, set down the glass he was in the act +of filling and—pulled down his waistcoat for the second time.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, and his cherubic whiskers seemed positively to quiver, +"I presoom—I say, I presoom you are referring to—Young Har?"</p> + +<p>"I meant Mr. Ravenslee."</p> + +<p>"Then may I beg that you'll allood to him 'enceforth as Young Har? This +is Young Har's own room, sir. These is Young Har's own picters, sir. +When Young Har is absent, I generally sit 'ere with me cigar and observe +said picters. I'm fond of hart, sir; I find hart soothing and restful. +The picters surrounding of you are all painted by Young Har's very own +'and—subjeks various. Number one—a windmill very much out o' repair, +but that's hart, sir. Number two—a lady dressed in what I might term +dish-a-bell, sir, and there isn't much of it, but that's hart again. +Number three—a sunset. Number four—moonlight; 'e didn't get the moon +in the picter but the light's there and that's the great thing—effect, +sir, effect! Of course, being only studies, they don't look +finished—which is the most hartisticest part about 'em! But, lord! +Young Har never finishes anything—too tired! 'Ang me, sir, if I don't +think 'e were born tired! But then, 'oo ever knew a haristocrat as +wasn't?"</p> + +<p>"But," demurred Mr. Stevens, staring down into his empty glass, "I +thought 'e was a American, your—Young Har?"</p> + +<p>"Why, 'e is and 'e ain't, sir. His father was only a American, I'll +confess, but his mother was blue blood, every drop guaranteed, sir, and +as truly English as—as I am!"</p> + +<p>"And is 'e the Mr. Ravenslee as is the sportsman? Goes in for boxing, +don't 'e? Very much fancied as a heavyweight, ain't 'e? My governor's +seen him box and says 'e's a perfect snorter, by Jove!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly sighed, and soothed a slightly agitated whisker.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," he admitted, "I'm afraid 'e does box—but only as a +ammitoor, Mr. Stevens, strickly as a ammitoor, understand!"</p> + +<p>"And he's out making a night of it, is 'e?" enquired Mr. Stevens, +leaning back luxuriously and stretching his legs. "Bit of a rip, ain't +'e?"</p> + +<p>"A—wot, sir?" enquired Mr. Brimberly with raised brows.</p> + +<p>"Well, very wild, ain't he—drinks, gambles, and hetceteras, don't he?"</p> + +<p>"Why, as to that, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, dexterously performing +on the syphon, "I should answer you, drink 'e may, gamble 'e do, +hetceteras I won't answer for, 'im being the very hacme of +respectability though 'e is a millionaire and young."</p> + +<p>"And when might you expect 'im back?"</p> + +<p>"Why, there's no telling, Mr. Stevens."</p> + +<p>"Eh?" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and sat up very suddenly.</p> + +<p>"'Is movements, sir, is quite—ah—quite metehoric!"</p> + +<p>"My eye!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, gulping his brandy and soda rather +hastily.</p> + +<p>"Metehoric is the only word for it, sir!" pursued Mr. Brimberly with a +slow nod. "'E may drop in on me at any moment, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said his guest, rising, "p'r'aps I'd better be moving?"</p> + +<p>"On the other 'and," pursued Mr. Brimberly, smiling and caressing his +left whisker, "'e may be on 'is way to Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor at +this pre-cise moment—'e is that metehoric, lord! These millionaires is +much of a muchness, sir, 'ere to-day, gone to-morrer. Noo York this +week, London or Paris the next. Young Har is always upsetting my plans, +'e is, and that's a fact, sir! Me being a nat'rally quiet, reasonable, +and law-abiding character, I objects to youthful millionaires on +principle, Mr. Stevens, on principle!"</p> + +<p>"Ditto!" nodded Mr. Stevens, his glance wandering uneasily to the door +again, "ditto with all my 'eart, sir. If it's all the same to you, I +think p'r'aps I'd better be hopping—you know—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you worry about Young Har; 'e won't bother us to-night; 'e's +off Long Island way to try his newest 'igh-power racing car—'e's +driving in the Vanderbilt Cup Race next month. To-night 'e expects to do +eighty miles or so, and 'opes to sleep at one of 'is clubs. I say 'e +'opes an' expects so to do!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded Mr. Stevens, "certainly, but what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly, "if you'd been forced by stern dooty to sit +be'ind Young Har in a fast automobile as I 'ave, you'd know what I mean. +Reckless? Speed? Well, there!" and Mr. Brimberly lifted hands and eyes +and shook his head until his whiskers vibrated with horror.</p> + +<p>"Then you're pretty sure," said Mr. Stevens, settling luxurious boots +upon a cushioned chair, "you're pretty sure he won't come bobbing up +when least expected?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty sure!" nodded Mr. Brimberly. "You see, this nooest car is the +very latest thing in racing cars—cost a fortune, consequently it's +bound to break down—these here expensive cars always do, believe me!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said Mr. Stevens, helping himself to one of Mr. Brimberly's +master's cigars, "I say let joy and 'armony be unconfined! How about +Jenkins and 'is banjer?"</p> + +<p>"I'll call 'im up immediate!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, rising. "Mr. Jenkins +is a true hartist, equally facetious and soulful, sir!"</p> + +<p>So saying, Mr. Brimberly arose and crossed toward the telephone. But +scarcely had he taken three steps when he paused suddenly and stood +rigid and motionless, his staring gaze fixed upon the nearest window; +for from the shadowy world beyond came a sound, faint as yet and far +away, but a sound there was no mistaking—the dismal tooting of an +automobile horn.</p> + +<p>"'Eavens an' earth!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, and crossing to the window +he peered out. Once again the horn was heard, but very much nearer now, +and louder, whereupon Mr. Brimberly turned, almost hastily, and his +visitor rose hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"It's very annoying, Mr. Stevens," said he, "but can I trouble you +to—to step—er—down—stairs—<i>with</i> the glasses? It's 'ighly +mortifying, but may I ask you to—er—step a little lively, Mr. +Stevens?"</p> + +<p>Without a word, Mr. Stevens caught up the tray from the piano and glided +away on his toe-points; whereupon Mr. Brimberly (being alone) became +astonishingly agile and nimble all at once, diving down to straighten a +rug here and there, rearranging chairs and tables; he even opened the +window and hurled two half-smoked cigars far out into the night; and his +eye was as calm, his brow as placid, his cheek as rosy as ever, only his +whiskers—those snowy, telltale whiskers, quivered spasmodically, very +much as though endeavouring to do the manifestly impossible and flutter +away with Mr. Brimberly altogether; yes, it was all in his whiskers.</p> + +<p>Thus did Mr. Brimberly bustle softly to and fro until he paused, all at +once, arrested by the sound of a slow, firm step near by. Then Mr. +Brimberly coughed, smoothed his winglike whiskers, and—pulled down his +waistcoat for the third time. And lo! even as he did so, the door +opened, and the hero of this history stood upon the threshold.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>OF A MOURNFUL MILLIONAIRE WHO LACKED AN OBJECT</h3> + + +<p>Geoffrey Ravenslee was tall and pale and very languid, so languid indeed +that the automobile coat he bore across his arm slipped to the floor ere +Mr. Brimberly could take it, after which he shed his cap and goggles and +dropped them, drew off his gauntlets and dropped them and, crossing to +his favourite lounge chair, dropped himself into it, and lay there +staring into the fire.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Brimberly," he sighed gently, "making a night of it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," bowed his butler, "indeed, sir—to tell the truth, sir—"</p> + +<p>"You needn't, Brimberly. Excellent cigars you smoke—judging from the +smell. May I have one?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Brimberly, his whiskers slightly agitated, "cigars, sir?"</p> + +<p>"In the cabinet, I think," and Mr. Ravenslee motioned feebly with one +white hand towards the tall, carved cabinet in an adjacent corner.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly coughed softly behind plump fingers.</p> + +<p>"The—the key, sir?" he suggested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all necessary, Brimberly; the lock is faulty, you know."</p> + +<p>"Sir?" said Brimberly, soothing a twitching whisker.</p> + +<p>"If you are familiar with the life of the Fourteenth Louis, Brimberly, +you will remember that the Grand Monarch hated to be kept waiting—so do +I. A cigar—in the cabinet yonder."</p> + +<p>With his whiskers in a high state of agitation, Mr. Brimberly laid by +the garments he held clutched in one arm and coming to the cabinet, +opened it, and taking thence a box of cigars, very much at random, came +back, carrying it rather as though it were a box of highly dangerous +explosives, and setting it at his master's elbow, struck a match.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Brimberly watched his master select and light his cigar, it +chanced that Young R. raised his eyes and looked at him, and to be sure +those eyes were surprisingly piercing and quick for one so very languid. +Indeed, Mr. Brimberly seemed to think so, for he coughed again, faint +and discreetly, behind his hand, while his whiskers quivered slightly, +though perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"You're 'ome quite—quite unexpected, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Brimberly, I'm afraid I am, but I hope I don't intrude?"</p> + +<p>"Intrude, sir!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Oh, very facetious, sir, very +facetious indeed!" and he laughed, deferentially and soft.</p> + +<p>"I blew the horn, but I see he left his hat behind him!" sighed Young +R., nodding languidly toward the headgear of Mr. Stevens, which had +fallen beneath a chair and thus escaped notice.</p> + +<p>"Why, I—indeed, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, stooping to make a fierce +clutch at it, "I took the liberty of showing a friend of mine your—your +picters, sir—no offence, I 'ope, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Friend?" murmured his master.</p> + +<p>"Name of Stevens, sir, valet to Lord Barberton—a most sooperior person +indeed, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Barberton? I don't agree with you, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"Stevens, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! And you showed him my—pictures, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I did take that liberty—no offence, sir, I—"</p> + +<p>"Hum! Did he like 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Like them, sir! 'E were fair overpowered, sir! Brandy and soda, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks! Did he like that, too?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir—I—indeed—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind—to-night is an occasion, anyway—just a splash of soda! +Yes, Brimberly, when the clocks strike midnight I shall be thirty-five +years old—"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir!" exclaimed Brimberly, clasping his plump hands softly and +bowing, "then allow me to wish you many, many 'appy returns, sir, with +continued 'ealth, wealth, and all 'appiness, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Happiness?" repeated Young R., and smiled quite bitterly, as only the +truly young can smile. "Happiness!" said he again, "thank you, +Brimberly—now take your friend his hat, and have the extreme goodness +to make up the fire for me. I love a fire, as you know, but especially +when I am mournful. And pray—hurry, Brimberly!"</p> + +<p>Forthwith Mr. Brimberly bowed and bustled out, but very soon bustled +in again; and now, as he stooped, menial-like, to ply the coal tongs, +though his domelike brow preserved all its wonted serenity, no words +could possibly express all the mute rebellion of those eloquent +whiskers.</p> + +<p>"Hanything more, sir?" he enquired, as he rose from his knees.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," said Young R., glancing up at him, and beneath the quizzical +look in those sleepy grey eyes, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers wilted +slightly. "You're getting a trifle too—er—portly to hop round on your +knees, aren't you, Brimberly? Pray sit down and talk to me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly bowed and took a chair, sitting very upright and attentive +while his master frowned into the fire.</p> + +<p>"Thirty-five is a ripe age, Brimberly!" said he at last; "a man should +have made something of his life—at thirty-five!"</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir!"</p> + +<p>"And I'm getting quite into the sere and yellow leaf, am I not, +Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly raised a plump, protesting hand.</p> + +<p>"'Ardly that, sir, 'ardly that!" said he, "we are hall of us getting +on, of course—"</p> + +<p>"Where to, Brimberly? On where, Brimberly—on what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, since you ask me, I should answer—begging your +parding—'eavens knows, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Precisely! Anyway, I'm going there fast."</p> + +<p>"Where, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"Ah—er—certingly, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Brimberly, as a hard-headed, matter-of-fact, common-sense being, +what would you suggest for a poor devil who is sick and tired of +everything and most of all—of himself?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, I should prescribe for that man change of hair, sir—travel, +sir. I should suggest to that man Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor, or both, +sir. There's your noo yacht a-laying in the river, sir—"</p> + +<p>His master leant his square chin upon his square fist and still frowning +at the fire, gently shook his head.</p> + +<p>"My good Brimberly," he sighed, "haven't I travelled in most parts of +the world?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, sir, you've travelled, sir, very much so indeed, sir—you've +shot lions and tigers and a helephant or so, and exchanged sentiments +with raging 'eathen—as rage in nothing but a string o' beads—but what +about your noomerous possessions in Europe, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," nodded Young R., "I do possess some shanties and things over +there, don't I, Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>"Shanties, sir!" Mr. Brimberly blinked, and his whiskers bristled +in horrified reproof. "Shanties!—Oh, dear me, sir!" he murmured. +"Shanties—your magnificent town mansion situate in Saint James's +Square, London, as your respected father hacquired from a royal dook, +sir! Shanties!—your costly and helegant res-eye-dence in Park Lane, +sir!"</p> + +<p>"Hum!" said Young R. moodily.</p> + +<p>"Then, in Scotland, sir, we 'ave your castle of Drumlochie, sir—rocks, +turrets, battlements, 'ighly grim and romantic, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Ha!" sighed his young master, frowning at his cigar.</p> + +<p>"Next, sir,—in Italy we find your ancient Roman villa, sir—halabaster +pillows and columns, sir—very historical though a trifle wore with wars +and centuries of centoorians, sir, wherefore I would humbly suggest a +coat or two of paint, sir, applied beneath your very own eye, sir—"</p> + +<p>"No, Brimberly," murmured Young R., "paint might have attractions—Italy, +none!"</p> + +<p>"Certingly not, sir, cer-tingly not! Which brings us to your schloss in +Germany, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Nor Germany! Lord, Brimberly, are there many more?"</p> + +<p>"Ho, yes, sir, plenty!" nodded Mr, Brimberly, "your late honoured and +respected father, sir, were a rare 'and at buying palaces, sir; 'e +collected 'em, as you might say, like some folks collects postage +starmps, sir!"</p> + +<p>"And a collection of the one is about as useless as a collection of the +other, Brimberly!"</p> + +<p>"Why, true, sir, one man can't live in a dozen places all at once, but +why not work round 'em in turn, beginning, say, at your imposing +Venetian palazzo—canals, sir, gondoleers—picturesque though dampish? +Or your shally in the Tyro-leen Halps, sir, or—"</p> + +<p>"Brimberly, have the goodness to—er—shut up!"</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir."</p> + +<p>"To-day is my birthday, Brimberly, and to-night I've reached a kind of +'jumping off' place in my life, and—between you and me—I'm seriously +thinking of—er—jumping off!"</p> + +<p>"I crave parding, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I'm thirty-five years old," continued Young R., his frown growing +blacker, "and I've never done anything really worth while in all my +useless life! Have the goodness to look at me, will you?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what do I look like?"</p> + +<p>"The very hacme of a gentleman, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Kind of you, Brimberly, but I know myself for an absolutely useless +thing—a purposeless, ambitionless wretch, drifting on to God knows +what. I'm a hopeless wreck, a moral derelict, and it has only occurred +to me to-night—but"—and here the speaker paused to flick the ash from +his cigar—"I fear I'm boring you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir—ho, no, not at all, indeed, sir!"</p> + +<p>"You're very kind, Brimberly—light a cigarette! Ah, no, pardon me, you +prefer my cigars, I know."</p> + +<p>"Why—why, sir—" stammered Mr. Brimberly, laying a soothing hand upon +his twitching whisker, "indeed, I—I—"</p> + +<p>"Oh—help yourself, pray!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Mr. Brimberly took a cigar very much at random, and, while +Young R. watched with lazy interest, proceeded to cut it—though with +singularly clumsy fingers.</p> + +<p>"A light, Mr. Brimberly—allow me!"</p> + +<p>So Ravenslee held the light while Mr. Brimberly puffed his cigar to a +glow, though to be sure he coughed once and choked, as he met Young R.'s +calm grey eye.</p> + +<p>"Now," pursued his master, "if you're quite comfortable, Mr. Brimberly, +perhaps you'll be good enough to—er—hearken further to my tale of +woe?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly choked again and recovering, smoothed his writhing +whiskers and murmured: "It would be a honour!"</p> + +<p>"First, then, Brimberly, have you ever hated yourself—I mean, despised +yourself so utterly and thoroughly that the bare idea of your existence +makes you angry and indignant?"</p> + +<p>"Why—no, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, staring, "I can't say as I 'ave, +sir."</p> + +<p>"No," said his master with another keen glance, "and I don't suppose you +ever will!" Now here again, perhaps because of the look or something in +Young R.'s tone, Mr. Brimberly took occasion to emit a small, apologetic +cough.</p> + +<p>"You have never felt yourself to be a—cumberer of the earth, Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly, having thought the matter over, decided that he had not.</p> + +<p>"You are not given to introspection, Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>"Intro—ahem! No, sir, not precisely—'ardly that, sir, and then only +very occasional, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Then you've never got on to yourself—got wise to yourself—seen +yourself as you really are?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly goggled and groped for his whisker.</p> + +<p>"I mean," pursued his master, "you have never seen all your secret +weaknesses and petty meannesses stripped stark naked, have you?"</p> + +<p>"N-naked, sir!" faltered Mr. Brimberly, "very distressing indeed, +sir—oh, dear me!"</p> + +<p>"It's a devilish unpleasant thing," continued Young R., scowling at the +fire again, "yes, it's a devilish unpleasant thing to go serenely on our +flowery way, pitying and condemning the sins and follies of others and +sublimely unconscious of our own until one day—ah, yes—one day we meet +Ourselves face to face and see beneath all our pitiful shams and +hypocrisies and know ourselves at last for what we really are—behold +the decay of faculties, the degeneration of intellect bred of sloth and +inanition and know ourselves at last—for exactly what we are!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly stared at the preoccupation of his master's scowling brow +and grim-set mouth, and, clutching a soft handful of whisker, murmured: +"Certingly, sir!"</p> + +<p>"When I was a boy," continued Ravenslee absently, "I used to dream of +the wonderful things I would do when I was a man—by the way, you're +quite sure I'm not boring you—?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir—certingly not, sir—indeed, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Take another cigar, Brimberly—oh, put it in your pocket, it will do +to—er—to add to your collection! But, as I was saying, as a boy I was +full of a godlike ambition—but, as I grew up, ambition and all the +noble things it leads to, sickened and died—died of a surfeit of +dollars! And to-day I am thirty-five and feel that I can't—that I never +shall—do anything worth while—"</p> + +<p>"But, sir," exclaimed Mr. Brimberly with a bland and reassuring smile, +"you are one as don't have to do nothing—you're rich!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee started.</p> + +<p>"Rich!" he cried, and turning, he glanced at Mr. Brimberly, and his +square chin looked so very square and his grey eyes so very piercing +that Mr. Brimberly, loosing his whisker, coughed again and shifted his +gaze to the Persian rug beneath his feet; yet when Young R. spoke again, +his voice was very soft and sleepy.</p> + +<p>"Rich!" he repeated, "yes, that's just the unspeakable hell of it—it's +money that has crippled all endeavours and made me what I am! Rich? I'm +so rich that my friends are all acquaintances—so rich that I might buy +anything in the world except what I most desire—so rich that I am tired +of life, the world, and everything in the world, and have been seriously +considering a—er—a radical change. It is a comfort to know that we may +all of us find oblivion when we so desire."</p> + +<p>"Oblivion!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, mouthing the word sonorously, +"oblivion, sir, certingly—my own sentiments exactly, sir—for, though +not being a marrying man myself, sir, I regard it with a truly reverent +heye and 'umbly suggest that for you such a oblivious change would be—"</p> + +<p>"Brimberly," said Young R., turning to stare in lazy wonder, "where in +the world are you getting to now?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly coughed and touched a whisker with dubious finger.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't you allooding to—hem!—to matrimony, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Matrimony! Lord, no! Hardly so desperate a course as that, Brimberly. I +was considering the advisability of—er—this!" And opening a drawer in +the escritoire, Young R. held up a revolver, whereat Mr. Brimberly's +whiskers showed immediate signs of extreme agitation, and he started to +his feet.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ravenslee, sir—for the love o' Gawd!" he exclaimed, "if it's a +choice between the two—try matrimony first, it's so much—so much +wholesomer, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Is it, Brimberly? Let me see, there are about five hundred highly +dignified matrons in this—er—great city, wholly eager and anxious +to wed their daughters to my dollars (and incidentally myself) even +if I were the vilest knave or most pitiful piece of doddering +antiquity—faugh! Let's hear no more of matrimony."</p> + +<p>"Certingly not, sir!" bowed Mr. Brimberly.</p> + +<p>"And I'm neither mad, Brimberly, nor drunk, only—speaking +colloquially—I'm 'on to' myself at last. If my father had only left me +fewer millions, I might have been quite a hard-working, useful member of +society, for there's good in me, Brimberly. I am occasionally aware of +quite noble impulses, but they need some object to bring 'em out. An +object—hum!" Here Mr. Ravenslee put away the revolver. "An object to +work for, live for, be worthy of!" Here he fell to frowning into the +fire again and stared thus so long that at last Mr. Brimberly felt +impelled to say:</p> + +<p>"A hobject, of course, sir! A hobject—certingly, sir!" But here he +started and turned to stare toward the windows as from the darkness +beyond two voices were uplifted in song; two voices these which sang the +same tune and words but in two different keys, uncertain voices, now +shooting up into heights, now dropping into unplumbable deeps, two shaky +voices whose inconsequent quaverings suggested four legs in much the +same condition.</p> + +<p>"Brimberly," sighed his master, "what doleful wretches have we here?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, I—I rather fancy it's William and James—the footmen, sir," +answered Mr. Brimberly between bristling whiskers. "Hexcuse me, +sir—I'll go and speak to 'em, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray don't trouble yourself, Mr. Brimberly; sit down and hearken! +These sad sounds are inspired by deep potations—beer, I fancy. Be +seated, Mr. Brimberly."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly obeyed, and being much agitated dropped his cigar and +grovelled for it, and it was to be noted thereafter that as the singers +drew nearer, he shuffled on his chair with whiskers violently a-twitch, +while his eyes goggled more and his domelike brow grew ever moister. But +on came the singing footmen and passed full-tongued, wailing out each +word with due effect, thus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"—my sweet 'eart's—me mother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best—the dearest—of—'em all."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Hum!" murmured Young R., "I admire the sentiment, Brimberly, but the +execution leaves something to be desired, perhaps—"</p> + +<p>"If you'll only let me go out to 'em, sir!" groaned Mr. Brimberly, +mopping himself with a very large, exceeding white handkerchief, "if you +honly will, sir!"</p> + +<p>"No, Brimberly, no—it would only distress you, besides—hark! their +song is ended, and rather abruptly—I rather fancy they have fallen down +the terrace steps."</p> + +<p>"And I 'opes," murmured Mr. Brimberly fervently, "I do 'ope as they've +broke their necks!"</p> + +<p>"Of course I ought to have gone out and switched on the lights for +them," sighed Young R, "but then, you see, I thought they were safe in +bed, Brimberly!"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, mopping furiously, "I—I ventured to +give 'em a hour's leave of habsence, sir; I ventured so to do, sir, +because, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Because you are of rather a venturesome nature, aren't you, Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>"No offence, sir, I 'ope?"</p> + +<p>"None at all, Mr. Brimberly—pray calm yourself and—er—take a little +brandy."</p> + +<p>"Sir?"</p> + +<p>"Your glass is under the chair yonder, or is it your friend's?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly goggled toward Mr. Stevens' betraying glass, picked it +up, and sat staring at it in vague and dreamy fashion until, rousing at +his master's second bidding, he proceeded to mix brandy and soda, his +gaze still profoundly abstracted and his whiskers drooping with an +abnormal meekness.</p> + +<p>At this juncture a knock sounded at the door, and a chauffeur appeared, +looking very smart in his elegant livery; a thick-set man, mightily deep +of chest, whose wide shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and whose +long, gorilla-like arms ended in two powerful hands; his jaw was +squarely huge, his nose broad and thick, but beneath his beetling brows +blinked two of the mildest blue eyes in the world.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"And what time will ye be wantin' the car in the mornin', sir?" he +enquired.</p> + +<p>"The morning, Joe? Who can say what may happen between now and then?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I have her round at eleven, sir, or—"</p> + +<p>"Eleven will do as well as any other time—let it go at that."</p> + +<p>"You was to see your broker, Mr. Anderson, in the morning over them +steamship shares, sir."</p> + +<p>"Shares, Joe, are a vanity; all is vanity—they weary me. Mr. Brimberly +yawns, and you look sleepy—good night, Joe; pleasant dreams."</p> + +<p>"Good night, sir!" and touching his right eyebrow, Joe went out, closing +the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Mr. Ravenslee, puffing languidly at his cigar, +"referring to the necessary object, there is a chance that it may be +found—even yet, Mr. Brimberly!"</p> + +<p>"Object, sir," murmured Mr. Brimberly, "found, sir—to be sure, sir."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I intend you shall find it for me, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly's abstraction gave place to sudden amaze.</p> + +<p>"Find it—wot, me, sir? Hexcuse me, sir, but did you say—" Mr. +Brimberly actually gaped!</p> + +<p>"You, Brimberly, of course!"</p> + +<p>"But—but wot kind of a hobject—and where, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Really," sighed Young R., "these are quite fool questions for one of +your hard-headed common sense! If I knew exactly 'what' and 'where', I'd +go and find it myself—at least, I might!"</p> + +<p>"But—'ow in the world, sir—begging your parding I'm sure, but 'ow am I +to go a-finding hobjex as I've never seen nor 'eard of?"</p> + +<p>"Brimberly, I pass! But if you manage it in—say a week, I'll double +your wages and give you a—er—a bonus into the bargain; think it over."</p> + +<p>"I—I will, sir—indeed, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Very well; you may go."</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir." Mr. Brimberly bowed and crossed to the door but, being +there, paused. "Double me wages I think it were, sir, <i>and</i> a bonus? +Very 'andsome, very 'andsome indeed, sir—thank you, sir." Saying which, +Mr. Brimberly bowed himself out, but immediately bowed himself in again.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "if you could give me some hidea, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Some what?"</p> + +<p>"A few 'ints, sir, as to the nature of said hobject—whether animal, +mineral, or nooter, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well—perhaps 'animal' might be the more interesting."</p> + +<p>"Now—as to gender, sir—masculine shall we say, or shall we make it +feminine?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—either will do! And yet, since you offer so wide a selection, +perhaps—er—feminine—?"</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir!"</p> + +<p>"And you'd better make it singular number, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir, much obliged, sir! Will you be wanting me again, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not again, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"Then good night, sir—thank you, sir!" And Mr. Brimberly went softly +forth and closed the door noiselessly behind him.</p> + +<p>Being alone, Mr. Ravenslee switched off the lights and sat in the +fire-glow.</p> + +<p>"Feminine gender, singular number, objective case, governed by the +verb—to love—I wonder!"</p> + +<p>And he laughed a little bitterly (and very youthfully) as he stared down +into the dying fire.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE WENT SEEKING AN OBJECT</h3> + + +<p>A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Mr. Ravenslee sat there +long after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk upon his broad +chest, his sombre eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in +profound and gloomy meditation. But, all at once, he started and glanced +swiftly around toward a certain window, the curtains of which were only +partly drawn, and his lounging attitude changed instantly to one of +watchful alertness.</p> + +<p>As he sat thus, broad shoulders stooped, feet drawn up—poised for swift +action, he beheld a light that flashed here and there, that vanished and +came again, hovering up and down and to and fro outside the window; +wherefore he reached out a long arm in the gloom and silently opened a +certain drawer in the escritoire.</p> + +<p>Came a soft click, a faint creak, and a breath of cool, fragrant air as +the window was cautiously opened, and a shapeless something climbed +through, while Mr. Ravenslee sat motionless—waiting.</p> + +<p>The flashing light winked again, a small, bright disc that hovered +uncertainly and finally steadied upon the carved cabinet in the corner, +and the Something crept stealthily thither. A long-drawn, breathless +minute and then—the room was flooded with brilliant light, and a +figure, kneeling before the cabinet, uttered a strangled cry and leapt +up, only to recoil before Mr. Ravenslee's levelled revolver.</p> + +<p>A pallid-faced, willowy lad, this, of perhaps seventeen, who, sinking to +his knees, threw up an arm across his face, then raised both hands above +his head.</p> + +<p>"Ah, don't shoot, mister!" he gasped. "Oh, don't shoot—I got me hands +up!"</p> + +<p>"Stand up!" said Ravenslee grimly, "up with you and shutter that +window—you may have friends outside, and I'm taking no chances! +Quick—shutter that window, I say."</p> + +<p>The lad struggled to his feet and, crossing to the window, fumbled the +shutter into place, his ghastly face turning and turning toward the +revolver that glittered in such deadly fashion in Mr. Ravenslee's steady +hand. At length, the shutters barred, the boy turned, and moistening dry +lips, spoke hoarsely and with apparent effort.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mister—don't go for to—croak a guy as—as ain't done nothing!"</p> + +<p>"You broke into my house!"</p> + +<p>"But I—haven't took nothin'!"</p> + +<p>"Because I happened to catch you!"</p> + +<p>"But—but—oh, sir," stammered the boy, taking off his cap and fumbling +with it while he stared wide-eyed at the threatening revolver, "I—I +ain't a real thief—cross me heart and hope to die, I ain't! Don't croak +me, sir!"</p> + +<p>"But why in the world not?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. "Alone and unaided +I have captured a desperate criminal, a bloodthirsty villain—caught him +in the very act of burgling a cabinet where I keep my cigars of +price—and Mr. Brimberly's, of course! Consequently to—er—croak you +is my privilege as a citizen; it's all quite just and proper—really, +I ought to croak you, you know."</p> + +<p>"I—ain't desprit, mister," the boy pleaded, "I ain't a reg'lar crook; +dis is me first try-out—honest it is!"</p> + +<p>"But then I prefer to regard you as a deep-dyed desperado—you must be +quite—er—sixteen! Consequently it is my duty to croak you on the spot, +or hand you over to the police—"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried the boy, his tremulous hands reached out in a passion +of supplication, "not d' cops—don't let th' p'lice get me. Oh, I never +took nothin' from nobody—lemme go! Be a sport and let me beat it, +please, sir!"</p> + +<p>All Mr. Ravenslee's chronic languor seemed to have returned as, leaning +back in the deep-cushioned chair, he regarded this youthful malefactor +with sleepy eyes, yet eyes that missed nothing of the boy's quivering +earnestness as he continued, breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ain't a real crook, I never done nothin' like this before, an' +I never will again if—if you'll only let me chase meself—"</p> + +<p>"And now," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "I'll trouble you for the 'phone, +yonder."</p> + +<p>"Are ye goin' to—call in de cops?"</p> + +<p>"That is my intention. Give me the 'phone."</p> + +<p>"No!" cried the boy, and springing before the telephone he stood there, +trembling but defiant.</p> + +<p>"Give me that telephone!"</p> + +<p>"Not much I won't!"</p> + +<p>"Then of course I must shoot you!"</p> + +<p>The boy stood with head up-flung and fists tight-clenched; Mr. Ravenslee +lounged in his chair with levelled pistol. So they fronted each +other—but, all at once, with a sound between a choke and a groan, the +lad covered his face.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he whispered hoarsely, "go on—what's keepin' you? If it's the +cops or croaking, I—I'd rather croak."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause if I was ever sent to—prison—it 'ud break her heart, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Her heart?" said Mr. Ravenslee, and lowered the pistol.</p> + +<p>"Me sister's."</p> + +<p>"Ah—so you have a sister?" and Mr. Ravenslee sat up suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Lots o' guys has, but there ain't a sister like mine in all N' +York—nor nowheres else."</p> + +<p>"Who are you? What's your name?"</p> + +<p>"Spike. Me real name's Arthur, but Arthur sounds kinder soft an' sissy; +nobody don't call me Arthur 'cept her, an' I don't mind her."</p> + +<p>"And what's her name?"</p> + +<p>"Hermy—Hermione, sir."</p> + +<p>"Hermione—why, that's Greek! It's a very beautiful name!"</p> + +<p>"Kind of fits her too!" nodded Spike, warming to his theme. "Hermy's +ace-high on the face and figure question! Why, there ain't a swell dame +on Fift' Av'ner, nor nowheres else, got anything on Hermy as a looker!"</p> + +<p>"And what of your father and mother?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't got none—don't remember having none—don't want none; Hermy's +good 'nuff for me."</p> + +<p>"Good to you, is she?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Good t' me!" cried Spike, "good? Well, say—when I think about it I—I +gets watery in me lamps, kinder sloppy in me talk, an' all mushy inside! +Good t' me? Well, you can just bet on that!"</p> + +<p>"And," enquired Mr. Ravenslee sleepily, "are you as good to her?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Spike turned his cap inside out and looked at it thoughtfully. +"I—I dunno, mister."</p> + +<p>"Ah! perhaps you—make her cry, sometimes?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Spike began to pick at the lining of his cap and finally +answered: "Sometimes, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Would she cry if she could see you now, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Spike began to wring and twist his cap in nervous hands ere he +answered: "I—I guess she might, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"She must love you a good deal."</p> + +<p>At this, Spike twisted his cap into a ball but spoke nothing; seeing +which Mr. Ravenslee proceeded.</p> + +<p>"You are luckier than I; there isn't a soul in the world to do as much +for me."</p> + +<p>Spike gulped audibly and, thereafter, sniffed.</p> + +<p>"Now suppose," said Mr. Ravenslee, "let us suppose she found out that +the brother she loved so much was a—thief?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Spike unrolled his cap and proceeded to rub his eyes with it, +and, when at last he spoke, it was in a voice broken by great sobs.</p> + +<p>"Say—cut it out—cut it out! I never meant to—to do it. They got me +soused—doped me, I think, else I'd never have done it. I ain't good, +but I ain't so rotten bad as—what I seem. I ain't no real crook, but if +you wanter croak me for what I done—go ahead! Only don't—don't let d' +cops get me, 'cause o' Hermy. If you croak me, she'll think I got it in +a scrap, maybe; so if you wanter plug me, go ahead!"</p> + +<p>"But what are you shivering for?"</p> + +<p>"I—I'm just waitin', sir," answered Spike, closing his eyes, "I—I seen +a guy shot once!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee sighed and nodded.</p> + +<p>"After all," said he, "I don't think I'll croak you," and he slipped +the revolver into his pocket while Spike watched him in sudden tense +eagerness.</p> + +<p>"What yer mean to do wi' me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's the question; what shall I do with you? Let me think."</p> + +<p>"Say," cried the boy eagerly, "you don't have to do no thinkin'—leave +it all to me! It's de winder for mine; I'll chase meself quick—"</p> + +<p>"No you don't! Sit down—sit down, I say!"</p> + +<p>Spike sighed and seated himself on the extreme edge of the chair his +captor indicated.</p> + +<p>"Won't yer lemme beat it, sir?" he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"No, some one else might catch you next time and have the pleasure +of—er—croaking you or handing you over to the police—"</p> + +<p>"There won't be no next time, sir!" cried Spike eagerly. "I'll never +do it no more—I'll cut d' whole gang, I'll give Bud M'Ginnis d' +throw-down—on d' dead level I will, if you'll only let me—"</p> + +<p>"Who's Bud M'Ginnis?"</p> + +<p>"Say," exclaimed the boy, staring, "don't yer know that? Why, Bud's +d' main squeeze with d' gang, d' whole cheese, he is—an' he kind o' +thinks I'm d' candy-kid 'cause he's stuck on me sister—".</p> + +<p>"Ah!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, frowning a little, "and is she—er—stuck on +him?"</p> + +<p>"Not so as you could notice it, she ain't! No, she can't see Bud with a +pair of opry-glasses, an' he's a dead game sport, too! Oh, there ain't +no flies on Bud, an' nobody can lick him, either; but Hermy don't cotton +none, she hasn't got no use for him, see? But say—" Spike rose +tentatively and looked on his captor with eyes big and supplicating.</p> + +<p>"Well, what now?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I thought if you was tired of me chewing d' rag and wanted to hit +the feathers, I'd just cop a sneak. See, if you'll only lemme go, I'll +do d' square thing and get a steady job like Hermy wants me to—honest, +I will, sir! Y' see, me sister's away to-night—she does needleworks for +swell folks an' stops with 'em sometimes—so if you'll only let me beat +it, I can skin back an' she'll never know! Ah!—lemme go, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Well then," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "for her sake I will let you +go—wait! I'll let you go and never speak of your—er—little escapade +here, if you will take me with you."</p> + +<p>Now at this, Spike gaped and fell back a step.</p> + +<p>"Go wi' me—wi' me?" he stammered. "You—go wi' me to Hell's Kitchen—to +Mulligan's Dump—you! Say, what kind o' song and dance are you giving +me, anyway? Aw—quit yer kiddin', sir!"</p> + +<p>"But I mean it."</p> + +<p>"On—on d' level?"</p> + +<p>"On the level."</p> + +<p>"Holy Gee!" and Spike relapsed into wide-eyed, voiceless wonder.</p> + +<p>"Is it a go?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"But—but, say—" stammered the boy, glancing from the elegant figure in +the chair around the luxurious room and back again, "but you're a—a—"</p> + +<p>"Just a poor, disconsolate, lonely—er—guy!"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Spike, staring around him again, "with all this? Oh, yes, +you're homeless and starving, you are—I don't think!"</p> + +<p>"Is it a go?"</p> + +<p>"But say—whatcher want to go wi' me for? What's yer game? Put me wise."</p> + +<p>"I am filled with desire to breathe awhile the salubrious air of Hell's +Kitchen; will you take me?" Now as he spoke, beholding the boy's staring +amaze, Mr. Ravenslee's frowning brows relaxed, his firm, clean-shaven +lips quivered, and all at once curved up into a smile of singular +sweetness—a smile before which the hopelessness and fear died out of +the boy's long-lashed eyes, his whole strained attitude vanished, and he +smiled also—though perhaps a little tremulously.</p> + +<p>"Will you take me, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"You bet I will!" exclaimed the boy, his blue eyes shining, "and I'll do +my best to show you I—I ain't so bad as I—as I seem—an' we'll shake +on it if you like." And Spike advanced with his hand outstretched, then +paused, suddenly abashed, and drooping his head, turned away. "I—I +forgot," he muttered, "—I'm—you said I was a—thief!"</p> + +<p>"You meant to be!" said Mr. Ravenslee, and rising, he stretched himself +and glanced at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Are you coming wi' me, sir?" enquired Spike, regarding Mr. Ravenslee's +length and breadth with quick, appraising eyes.</p> + +<p>"I surely am!"</p> + +<p>"But—but not in them glad rags!" and Spike pointed to Mr. Ravenslee's +exquisitely tailored garments.</p> + +<p>"Ah—to be sure!" nodded their wearer. "We'll soon fix that," and he +touched the electric bell.</p> + +<p>"Say," cried Spike, starting forward in sudden terror, "you—you ain't +goin' to give me away?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Cross your heart—hope to die, you ain't?"</p> + +<p>"Across my heart and hope to die, I'm not—and there's my hand on it, +Spike."</p> + +<p>"What?" exclaimed the boy, his eyes suspiciously bright, "d' you mean +you will shake—after—after what I—"</p> + +<p>"There's my hand, Spike!" So their hands met and gripped, the boy's hot +and eagerly tremulous, the man's cool and steady and strong; then of a +sudden Spike choked and turning his back brushed away his tears with his +cap. Also at this moment, with a soft and discreet knock, Mr. Brimberly +opened the door and bowed himself into the room; his attitude was +deferential as always, his smile as respectful, but, beholding Spike, +his round eyes grew rounder and his whiskers slightly bristly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Brimberly," nodded his master, "you are not in bed yet—good!"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, "I'm not in bed yet, sir, but when +you rang I was in the very hact, sir—"</p> + +<p>"First of all," said Young R., selecting a cigar, "let me introduce you +to—er—my friend, Spike!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Mr. Brimberly rolled his eyes in Spike's direction, glanced him +over, touched either whisker, and bowed—and lo! those fleecy whiskers +were now eloquent of pompous dignity, beholding which Spike shuffled his +feet, averted his eyes, and twisted his cap into a very tight ball +indeed.</p> + +<p>But now Brimberly turned his eyes (and his whiskers) on his master, who +had taken out his watch.</p> + +<p>"Brimberly," said he, "it is now very nearly two o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Very late, sir—oh, very late, sir—indeed, I was in the very hact of +goin' to bed, sir—I'd even unbuttoned my waistcoat, sir, when you +rang—two o'clock, sir—dear me, a most un-'oly hour, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Consequently, Brimberly, I am thinking of taking a little outing—"</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir—oh, certingly!"</p> + +<p>"And I want some other clothes—"</p> + +<p>"Clothes, sir—yessir. There's the noo 'arris tweed, sir—"</p> + +<p>"With holes in them, if possible, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"'Oles, sir! Beg parding, sir, but did you say 'oles, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Also patches, Brimberly, the bigger the better!"</p> + +<p>"Patches! Hexcuse me, sir, but—patches! I beg parding, but—" Mr. +Brimberly laid a feeble hand upon a twitching whisker.</p> + +<p>"In a word, Brimberly," pursued his master, seating himself upon the +escritoire and swinging his leg, "I want some old clothes, shabby +clothes—moth-eaten, stained, battered, and torn. Also a muffler and +an old hat. Can you find me some?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I don't—that is, yessir, I do. Hexcuse me, sir—'arf a +moment, sir." Saying which, Mr. Brimberly bowed and went from the room +with one hand still clutching his whisker very much as though he had +taken himself into custody and were leading himself out.</p> + +<p>"Say," exclaimed Spike in a hoarse whisper and edging nearer to Mr. +Ravenslee, "who's His Whiskers—de swell guy with d' face trimmings?"</p> + +<p>"Why, since you ask, Spike, he is a very worthy person who devotes his +life to—er—looking after my welfare and—other things."</p> + +<p>"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, staring, "I should have thought you was big +'nuff to do that fer yourself, unless—" and here he broke off suddenly +and gazed on Mr. Ravenslee's long figure with a new and more particular +interest.</p> + +<p>"Unless what?"</p> + +<p>"Say—you ain't got bats in your belfry, have you—you ain't weak in the +think-box, or soft in the nut, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"No—at least not more than the average, I believe."</p> + +<p>"I mean His Whiskers don't have to lead you around on a string or watch +out you don't set fire to yourself, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, strictly speaking, I can't say that his duties are quite so +far-reaching."</p> + +<p>"Who are you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my names are Geoffrey, Guy, Eustace, Hughson-and—er—a few +others, but these will do to go on with, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess yes!"</p> + +<p>"You can take your choice."</p> + +<p>"Well, Guy won't do—no siree—ye see every mutt's a guy down our +way—so I guess we'll make it Geoff. But, say, if you ain't weak on the +think-machinery, why d' ye keep a guy like His Whiskers hanging around?"</p> + +<p>"Because he has become a habit, Spike—and habits cling—and speaking of +habits—here it is!" Sure enough, at that moment Brimberly's knuckles +made themselves discreetly heard, and Brimberly himself appeared with +divers garments across his arm, at sight of which Spike stood +immediately dumb in staring, awe-struck wonder.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you've got them, Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>"Yessir! These is the best I can do, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Say rather—the worst!"</p> + +<p>"'Ere's a nice, big 'ole in the coat, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, +unfolding the garment in question, "and the weskit, sir; the pocket +is tore, you'll notice, sir."</p> + +<p>"Excellent, Brimberly!"</p> + +<p>"As for these trousis, sir—"</p> + +<p>"They seem rather superior garments, I'm afraid!" said Mr. Ravenslee, +shaking his head.</p> + +<p>"But you'll notice as they're very much wore round the 'eels, sir."</p> + +<p>"They'll do. Now the hat and muffler."</p> + +<p>"All 'ere, sir—the 'at's got its brim broke, sir."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't be better, Brimberly!" So saying, Mr. Ravenslee took up the +clothes and turned toward the door. "Now I'll trouble you to keep an eye +on—er—young America here while I get into these."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Mr. Brimberly, turning his whiskers full upon Spike, who +immediately fell to shuffling and wringing at his cap. "Sir—I will, +certingly, sir."</p> + +<p>Now when the door had shut after his master, Mr. Brimberly raised eyes +and hands to the ceiling and shook his head until his whiskers quivered. +Quoth he: "Hall I arsks is—wot next!" Thereafter he lowered his eyes +and regarded Spike as if he had been that basest of base minions—a boy +in buttons. At last he deigned speech.</p> + +<p>"And w'en did <i>you</i> come in, pray?"</p> + +<p>"'Bout a hour ago, sir," answered Spike, dropping his cap in his +embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, "about a hour ago—ho! By appointment, I +pre-zoom?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir—by a winder."</p> + +<p>"A—wot?"</p> + +<p>"A winder, sir."</p> + +<p>"A—winder? 'Eavens and earth—a winder—ow? Where? Wot for?"</p> + +<p>"Say, mister," said Spike, breaking in upon Mr. Brimberly's astounded +questioning, "is he nutty?" And he jerked his thumb toward the door +through which Mr. Ravenslee had gone.</p> + +<p>"Nutty!" said Mr. Brimberly, staring.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I mean is he batty? Has he got wheels?"</p> + +<p>"W'eels?" said Mr. Brimberly, his eyes rounder than usual.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, is he daffy?—off his trolley?"</p> + +<p>"Off 'is wot?" said Mr. Brimberly, fumbling for his whisker.</p> + +<p>"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, "can't you understand English? Say, is your +brother as smart as you?"</p> + +<p>"The honly brother as ever I 'ad was a infant as died and—but wot was +you saying about a winder?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'!"</p> + +<p>"Come, speak up, you young vagabone—" began Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers +suddenly fierce and threatening, but just then, fortunately for Spike, +the door swung, open, and Mr. Ravenslee entered.</p> + +<p>And lo! what a change was here! The battered hat, the faded muffler and +shabby clothes seemed only to show off all the hitherto hidden strength +and vigour of the powerful limbs below; indeed it almost seemed that +with his elegant garments he had laid aside his lassitude also and taken +on a new air of resolution, for his eyes were sleepy no longer, and his +every gesture was lithe and quick. So great was the change that Spike +stared speechless, and Mr. Brimberly gaped with whiskers a-droop.</p> + +<p>"Well, shall I do?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee, tightening his faded +neckerchief.</p> + +<p>"Do?" repeated Spike, "say—you look all to d' mustard, Geoff! You—you +look as if you could—do things, now!"</p> + +<p>"Strangely enough, Spike, I rather feel that way too!" So saying, Mr. +Ravenslee took a pipe from the rack, filled it with quick, energetic +fingers, and proceeded to light it, watched in dumb amaze by the gaping +Brimberly.</p> + +<p>"Brimberly," said he, "I shall probably return to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said he faintly.</p> + +<p>"Or the day after."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Or the day after."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Or the day after that; anyhow, I shall probably return. Should any one +call—business or otherwise—tell 'em to call again; say I'm out of +town—you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Out of town—certingly, sir."</p> + +<p>"Referring to—to the matter we talked of to-night, Brimberly—"</p> + +<p>"Meaning the hobject, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely! Don't trouble yourself about it."</p> + +<p>"No, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No, Brimberly—I'm going to try and find one for myself."</p> + +<p>"Ho—very good, sir!"</p> + +<p>"And now," said the new Mr. Ravenslee, laying one white, ringless hand +on Spike's shoulder and pointing toward the open door with the other, +"lead on—young Destiny!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>TELLING HOW HE CAME TO HELL'S KITCHEN AT PEEP O' DAY</h3> + + +<p>It was past three o'clock and dawn was at hand as, by devious ways, +Spike piloted his companion through that section of New York City which +is known to the initiated as "Hell's Kitchen." By dismal streets they +went, past silent, squalid houses and tall tenements looming grim and +ghostly in the faint light; crossing broad avenues very silent and +deserted at this hour, on and on until, dark and vague and mysterious, +the great river flowed before them only to be lost again as they plunged +into a gloomy court where tall buildings rose on every hand, huge and +very silent, teeming with life—but life just now wrapped in that +profound quietude of sleep which is so much akin to death. Into one of +these tall tenement buildings, its ugliness rendered more ugly by the +network of iron fire-escape ladders that writhed up the face of it, +Spike led the way, first into a dark hallway and thence up many stairs +that echoed to their light-treading feet—on and up, past dimly lit +landings where were doors each of which shut in its own little world, a +world distinct and separate wherein youth and age, good and evil, joy +and misery, lived and moved and had their being; behind these dingy +panels were smiling hope and black despair, blooming health and pallid +sickness, and all those sins and virtues that go to make up the sum +total of humanity.</p> + +<p>Something of all this was in Geoffrey Ravenslee's mind as he climbed the +dingy, interminable stair behind Spike, who presently halted to get his +wind and whisper:</p> + +<p>"It ain't much further now, Geoff, only another two flights and—" He +stopped suddenly to listen, and from the landing above a sound reached +them, a sound soft but unmistakable—a woman's muffled sobbing.</p> + +<p>Slowly, cautiously, they mounted the stair until in the dim light of a +certain landing they beheld a slim figure bowed upon its knees in an +agony of abasement before a scarred and dingy door. Even as they stared, +the slender, girlish figure sobbed again, and, with a sudden, yearning +gesture, lifted a face, pale in the half-light, and kissed that battered +door; thereafter, weeping still, she rose to her feet and turned, but +seeing Spike, stood very still all at once and with hands clasped tight +together.</p> + +<p>"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike beneath his breath; then, in a hoarse +whisper: "Is that Maggie—Maggie Finlay?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—is that you, Arthur?" she whispered back. "Arthur—oh, Arthur, I, +I'm going away, but I couldn't go without coming to—to kiss dear mother +good-by—and now I'm here I daren't knock for fear of—father. I've been +up to your door and knocked, but Hermy's away, I guess. Anyway, +you—you'll say I came to thank her and—kiss her for the last time, +won't you, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I will—but where ye goin', Maggie?"</p> + +<p>"A long way, Arthur! I don't s'pose I shall ever—see this place any +more—or you—so, Arthur, will you—kiss me good-by—just once?"</p> + +<p>Spike hesitated, but she, quick and light-treading, came down to him and +caught his hand and would have kissed that, but he snatched it away and, +leaning forward, kissed her tear-stained cheek, and blushed thereafter +despite the dark.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Arthur!" she whispered, "and thank you—and dear Hermy—oh, +good-by!" So saying, she hurried on past Ravenslee, down the dark +stairway, while Spike leaned over the balustrade to whisper:</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Maggie—an' good luck, Kid!" At this she paused to look up at +him with great, sad eyes—a long, wistful look, then, speaking no more, +hurried on down the stair—down, down into the shadows, and was gone.</p> + +<p>"We used to go to school together, Geoff," the boy explained a little +self-consciously, "she never—kissed me before; she ain't the kissin' +sort. I wonder why she did it to-night? I wonder—"</p> + +<p>So saying, Spike turned and led the way on again until they reached the +landing above, across which two doors, dark and unlovely, seemed to +scowl upon each other. One of these Spike proceeded to open with a +latchkey, and so led Ravenslee into the dark void beyond. Spike struck +a match and lighted the gas, and, looking about him, Ravenslee stared.</p> + +<p>A little, cramped room, sparsely furnished yet dainty and homelike, for +the small, deal table hid its bare nakedness beneath a dainty cloth; the +two rickety armchairs veiled their faded tapestry under chintz covers, +cunningly contrived and delicately tinted to match the cheap but +soft-toned drugget on the floor and the self-coloured paper on the +walls, where hung two or three inexpensive reproductions of famous +paintings; and in all things there breathed an air of refinement wholly +unexpected in Hell's Kitchen. Wherefore Mr. Ravenslee, observing all +things with his quick glance, felt an ever-growing wonder. But now +Spike, who had been clattering plates and dishes in the kitchen hard +by, thrust his head around the door to say:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff—I don't feel like doin' the shut-eye business, d' you? How +about a cup of coffee, an' I daresay I might dig out some eats; what d' +ye say?"</p> + +<p>"Is this—your sister?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee, taking up a photograph +from the little sideboard.</p> + +<p>"Yep, that's Hermy all right—taken las' year—does her hair different +now. How about some coffee, Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"Coffee?" said Mr. Ravenslee, staring at the picture, +"coffee—certainly—er—thanks! She has—light hair, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Gold!" said Spike, and vanished; whereupon Mr. Ravenslee laid the +photograph on the table, and sitting down, fell to viewing it intently.</p> + +<p>A wonderful face, low-browed, deep-eyed, full-lipped. Here was none of +smiling prettiness, for these eyes were grave and thoughtful, these +lips, despite their soft, voluptuous curves, were firmly modelled like +the rounded chin below, and, in all the face, despite its vivid youth, +was a vague and wistful sadness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff," called Spike, "d' ye mind having yer coffee à la milko +condenso?"</p> + +<p>"Milk?" exclaimed Mr. Ravenslee, starting. "Oh—yes—anything will do!"</p> + +<p>"Why, hello!" exclaimed Spike, reappearing with a cup and saucer, "still +piping off Hermy's photo, Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"I'm wondering why she looks so sad?"</p> + +<p>"Sad?" repeated Spike, setting down the crockery with a rattle, "Hermy +ain't sad; she always looks like that. Y' see, she ain't much on the +giggle, Geoff, but she's most always singing, 'cept when her kids is +sick or Mulligan calls—"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hermy mothers all the kids around here when they're sick, an' lots +o' kids is always getting sick. And when Mulligan comes it's rent day, +an' sometimes Hermy's a bit shy on the money—"</p> + +<p>"Is she?" said Mr. Ravenslee, frowning.</p> + +<p>"You bet she is, Geoff! An' Mulligan's an Irishman an' mean—say, he's +the meanest mutt you ever see. A Jew's mean, so's a Chink, but a mean +Harp's got 'em both skinned 'way to 'Frisco an' back again! Why, +Mulligan's that mean he wouldn't cough up a nickel to see the Statue +o' Liberty do a Salomy dance in d' bay. So when the mazuma's shy Hermy +worries some—"</p> + +<p>"Don't you help her?" demanded Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Help her—why, y' see, Geoff, I—I ain't in a steady job yet. But I +do my best an'—why, there's d' kettle boilin' at last!" saying which, +Spike turned and vanished again, leaving Mr. Ravenslee still staring +down at the pictured face. Presently he sank back in his chair, and, +lolling thus, looked sleepily at the opposite wall but saw it not, nor +heard the clatter of cups and saucers from the kitchen accompanied by +Spike's windy whistling; and, as he lounged thus, he spoke softly, and +to himself.</p> + +<p>"An object!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Geoff," Spike called, "this ain't goin' to be no à la carte, hock +an' claret feedin' match, nor yet no table-de-hoty eat-fest, but if you +can do in some bacon an' eggs, you're on!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said Mr. Ravenslee, rising and yawning, "count me decidedly +'on.'"</p> + +<p>"Then d' you mind givin' me a hand wid d' coffee?"</p> + +<p>"Delighted!" and forthwith Mr. Ravenslee stepped out into the kitchen; +and there, in a while, upon a rickety table covered with a greasy +newspaper, they ate and drank with great relish and gusto, insomuch +that Mr. Ravenslee marvelled at his own appetite.</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff," enquired Spike as hunger waned, "how long are you stoppin' +at Mulligan's—a week?"</p> + +<p>"A week—a month—six months," replied his guest sleepily. "It's all +according—"</p> + +<p>"Accordin' to what?"</p> + +<p>"Well—er—circumstances."</p> + +<p>"What circumstances?"</p> + +<p>"Circumstances over which I have no control—yet!"</p> + +<p>"You don't mean me?" queried Spike, with an anxious expression.</p> + +<p>"Lord, no!"</p> + +<p>"And you'll never tell nobody that I—that I—"</p> + +<p>"Meant to be—a thief?" drawled Mr. Ravenslee. "Not a word!"</p> + +<p>Spike flushed, took a gulp of coffee, choked, and fell to sulky silence, +while Mr. Ravenslee filled his pipe and yawned.</p> + +<p>"Say," demanded Spike at last, "where'll you live while you're here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—somewhere, I suppose; I haven't bothered about where yet."</p> + +<p>"Well, I been thinkin' I know where I can fix you up—perhaps!"</p> + +<p>"Very kind of you, Spike!"</p> + +<p>"There's Mrs. Trapes 'cross d'landing; she lost her lodger last +week—mean guy skinned off without paying d' rent—she might take you."</p> + +<p>"Across the landing? She'll do!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"But I'm wonderin' if <i>you'll</i> do; she's a holy terror when she likes, +Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Across the landing? I'll put up with her!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"But, say, you don't know Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Well, she ain't no easy mark, Geoff! Most everybody in Mulligan's is +scared of her when she cuts loose; she can talk ye deaf, dumb an' +paralysed, she can so. She sure is aces up on d' chin-music, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>"But then she lives just opposite, and that circumstance, methinks, doth +cover a multitude of—" Mr. Ravenslee yawned again.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, it's a sure thing she won't take you if she don't like ye, +Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, she must like me!" said Mr. Ravenslee and proceeded to light +his pipe; whereupon Spike produced a box of cigarettes, but, in the act +of lighting one, paused, and sighing, put it away again.</p> + +<p>"I promised d' Spider I wouldn't, Geoff," he explained. "Y' see, I'm +sort of in trainin', and Spider says smoke's bad for d' wind, and d' +Spider knows."</p> + +<p>"Spider?" said Mr. Ravenslee, glancing up, "do you mean Spider Connolly +the lightweight?"</p> + +<p>"That's d' guy!" nodded Spike.</p> + +<p>"Is he a friend of yours?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Him an' Bud M'Ginnis is goin' to get me some good matches soon."</p> + +<p>"Boxing matches?"</p> + +<p>"That's what they call 'em, Geoff—but there ain't much boxin' to it; +real boxin' don't go down wid d' sports, it's d' punch they wanter +see—good, stiff wallops as jars a guy an' makes his knees get +wobbly—swings and jolts as makes a guy blind an' deaf an' sick. Oh, +I been like that, an' I know—an' it ain't all candy t' hear everybody +yellin' to the other guy to go in an' finish ye!"</p> + +<p>"Does your sister know you fight?"</p> + +<p>"Not much, she don't! I guess she'd like me to be a mommer's pet in lace +collars an' a velvet suit, an' soft an' pretty in me talk. She's made +me promise t' cut out d' tough-spiel, an' so I'm tryin' to—"</p> + +<p>"Are you really, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Well—when she's around I do, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>"And she doesn't like you to fight, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Nope! But y' see—she's only a girl, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>"And that's the wonder of it!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Wonder? What d' ye mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that all these years she has managed to feed you, and clothe +you, and keep a comfortable home for you, and she's—only a girl!"</p> + +<p>"Well, and ain't I tryin' to make good?" cried the boy eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Are you really, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! There's lots o' money in d' fightin' game, an' I'm fightin' all +for Hermy. If ever I get a champ, I'll have money to burn, an' then +she'll never be shy on d' dollar question no more, you bet! There'll +be no more needlework or Mulligan's for Hermy; it'll be a farm in d' +country wid roses climbin' around, an' chickens, an'—an' automobiles, +an' servants to come when she pushes d' button—you bet!"</p> + +<p>"Is she so fond of the country?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess yes! An' flowers—Gee, she nearly eats 'em!"</p> + +<p>"On the other hand," said Mr. Ravenslee, watching the smoke from his +pipe with a dreamy eye, "on the other hand I gather she does not +like—Mr. M'Ginnis! I wonder why?"</p> + +<p>"You can search me!" answered Spike, shaking his head, "but it's a sure +thing she ain't got no use for Bud."</p> + +<p>"And yet—you go around with him, Spike."</p> + +<p>"But don't I tell ye he's been good t' me! He's goin' t' match me with +some top-liners; he says if I can stick it I'll be a champion sure."</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but when?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Bud's got it all doped out. But say—"</p> + +<p>"And in the meantime your sister will go on feeding you and clothing you +and—"</p> + +<p>"Cheese it, Geoff," cried the boy, flushing. "You make a guy feel like a +two-spot in the discard! I told you I'd try to get a steady job, an' so +I will—but I ain't goin' to quit the fightin' game for nobody! 'N' +say—I'm sleepy. How about it? You can have my bed, or the couch here, +or you can get in Hermy's—"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, the couch will do, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Then I guess it's me for the feathers!" said Spike, rising and +stretching, "so long, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>And in a while, having finished his pipe and knocked out the ashes, Mr. +Ravenslee stretched his long limbs upon the chintz-covered sofa, and, +<i>mirabile dictu</i>, immediately fell asleep.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>HOW MRS. TRAPES ACQUIRED A NEW LODGER, DESPITE HER ELBOWS</h3> + + +<p>He awoke suddenly and sat up to find the room full of sunshine and Spike +standing beside him, a bright-faced, merry-eyed Spike, very spruce and +neat as to person.</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff," said he, "I've seen Mrs. Trapes, an' she wants you to go +over so she can pipe you off. 'N' say, you're sure up against a catty +proposition in her; if you don't hit it off on the spot as soon as she +gets her lamps onto you, it'll be nix for you, Geoff, an' nothin' +doin'!"</p> + +<p>"Lucid!" said Ravenslee, yawning, "and sounds promising!"</p> + +<p>"Why, y' see, Geoff, she's got a grouch on because I was out last night, +so, if she gives you the gimlet eye at first, just josh her along a bit. +Now slick yourself up an' come on." Obediently Mr. Ravenslee arose and +having tightened his neckerchief and smoothed his curly hair, crossed +the landing and followed Spike into the opposite flat, a place of +startling cleanliness as to floors and walls, and everything therein; +uncomfortably trim of aspect and direfully ornate as to rugs and carpet +and sofa cushions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes herself was elderly; she was also a woman of points, being +bony and sharp featured, particularly as to elbows, which were generally +bare. Indeed, they might be said to be her most salient and obtrusive +features; but her shrewd, sharp eyes held an elusive kindliness at +times, and when she smiled, which was very rarely, her elbows and her +general sharpness were quite forgotten.</p> + +<p>She was awaiting them in her parlour, enthroned in her best easy chair, +a chair of green velvet where purple flowers bloomed riotously, her feet +firm-planted upon a hearthrug cunningly enwrought with salmon-pink +sunflowers. Bolt upright and stiff of back she sat, making the very +utmost of her elbows, for her sleeves being rolled high (as was their +wont) and her arms being folded within her apron, they projected +themselves to left and right in highly threatening fashion. Sphinx-like +she sat, very silent and very still, while her sharp eyes roved over Mr. +Ravenslee's person from the toes of his boots to the dark hair that +curled short and crisp above his brow. Thus she looked him up and she +looked him down, viewing each garment in turn; lastly, she lifted her +gaze to his face and stared at him—eye to eye.</p> + +<p>And eye to eye Mr. Ravenslee, serene and calm as ever, met her look, +while Spike, observing her granite-like expression and the fierce jut of +her elbows, shuffled, and glanced toward the door. But still Mrs. Trapes +glared up at Mr. Ravenslee, and still Mr. Ravenslee glanced down at Mrs. +Trapes wholly unabashed, nay—he actually smiled, and, bowing his dark +head, spoke in his easy, pleasant voice.</p> + +<p>"A beautiful afternoon, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes snorted.</p> + +<p>"This room will suit me—er—admirably."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes started slightly, opened her grim lips, shut them again, +and—wriggled her elbows.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," continued Mr. Ravenslee pleasantly, "I like this room—so +nice and bright, like the rug and wall paper—especially the rug. Yes, I +like the rug and the—er—stuffed owl in the corner!" and he nodded to a +shapeless, moth-eaten something under a glass case against the wall.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes wriggled her elbows again and, glaring still, spoke +harsh-voiced.</p> + +<p>"Young feller, that owl's a parrot!"</p> + +<p>"A parrot—of course!" assented Mr. Ravenslee gently, "and a very fine +parrot too! Then the wax flowers and the antimacassars! What would a +home be without them?" said he, dreamy-eyed and grave. "I think I shall +be very bright and cheerful here, my dear Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes swallowed audibly, stared at Spike until he writhed, and +finally bored her sharp eyes into Mr. Ravenslee again.</p> + +<p>"Young man," said she, "what name?"</p> + +<p>"I think our friend Spike has informed you that I am sometimes called +Geoffrey. Mrs. Trapes, our friend Spike told the truth."</p> + +<p>"Young feller," she demanded, "'oo are you and—what?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes," he sighed, "I am a lonely wight, a wanderer in wild +places, a waif, a stray, puffed hither and thither by a fate perverse—"</p> + +<p>"Talking o' verses, you ain't a poet, are you?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, +"last poet as lodged wi' me useter go to bed in 'is boots reg'lar! +Consequently I ain't nowise drawed to poets—"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee laughed and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Have no fear," he answered, "I'm no poet nor ever shall be. I'm quite +an ordinary human being, I assure you."</p> + +<p>"Young feller—references?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, I have none—except my face. But you have very sharp eyes; +look at me well. Do I strike you as a rogue or a thief?"</p> + +<p>Here Spike, chancing to catch his eye, blushed painfully, while Mr. +Ravenslee continued:</p> + +<p>"Come, Mrs. Trapes, you have a motherly heart, I know, and I am a very +lonely being who needs one like you to—to cook and care for his bodily +needs and to look after the good of his solitary soul. Were I to search +New York I couldn't find another motherly heart so suited to my crying +needs as yours; you won't turn me away, will you?" Saying which, Mr. +Ravenslee smiled his slow, sleepy smile and—wonder of wonders—Mrs. +Trapes smiled too!</p> + +<p>"When d' ye wanter come?"</p> + +<p>"Now!"</p> + +<p>"Land sakes!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"If it won't trouble you too much?" he added.</p> + +<p>"There's sheets to be aired—" she began, but checked suddenly to stare +at him again. "Look a here, Mr. Geoffrey," she went on, "my terms is +two-fifty a week, ten dollars <i>with</i> board, and a week in advance."</p> + +<p>"Good!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but since I'm coming in at such short +notice, I'll pay three weeks ahead just to—er—bind the bargain. +See—that will be thirty dollars, won't it?" And speaking, he drew a +handful of crumpled bills from his pocket and proceeded to count out +thirty dollars upon the green and yellow tablecloth.</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive!" murmured Mrs. Trapes.</p> + +<p>"And now," said he, "I'll just step around the corner with Spike to +buy—er—a toothbrush."</p> + +<p>"Toothbrush!" echoed Mrs. Trapes faintly.</p> + +<p>"And a few other things. I shall be in early to supper."</p> + +<p>"Would a nice, English mutton chop wiv tomatoes—"</p> + +<p>"Excellent; and thank you, Mrs. Trapes, for sheltering a homeless +wretch." So saying, her new boarder smiled and nodded and, following +Spike out into the hallway, was gone.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Trapes stood awhile to stare after him, lost in speculation.</p> + +<p>"A toothbrush!" said she. "My! My!" Then she turned to stare down at the +pile of bills. "Now I wonder," said she, right hand caressing left +elbow-point, "I jest wonder who he's been a-choking of to get all that +money? But I like his eyes! And his smile! And he looks a man—and +honest! Well, well!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>HOW SPIKE INITIATED MR. RAVENSLEE INTO THE GENTLE ART OF SHOPPING</h3> + + +<p>"Gee!" exclaimed Spike, as they descended the many stairs, "she sure +gave you the frosty-face, Geoff, but it didn't seem to joggle you any!"</p> + +<p>"No, it didn't joggle me, Spike, because you see—I like her."</p> + +<p>"Like Mrs. Trapes? You 'n' Hermy are about the only ones then; most +every one in Mulligan's hates her an' gets scared stiff when she cuts +loose! But say, you do keep on rubbing it in, I mean about—about +thieving!"</p> + +<p>"Probably it's your conscience, Spike."</p> + +<p>"You won't ever go telling any one or blowing d' game on me?"</p> + +<p>"Spike, when I make a promise I generally keep it."</p> + +<p>"Y' see, Geoff, it ain't as though I was a—a real crook."</p> + +<p>"You meant to be."</p> + +<p>"But I never stole nothin' in my life, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I hadn't caught you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, cheese it, Geoff, cheese it! Let's talk about something +else."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure. When does your sister return?"</p> + +<p>"This evening, I guess. But, Geoff—say now, do I look like a real +crook—do I?"</p> + +<p>"No, you don't, Spike, that's sure! And yet—only last night—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, I know—I know!" groaned the lad, "but I was crazy, I think. +It was the whisky, Geoff, an' they doped me too, I guess! I don't +remember much after we left till I found myself in your swell joint. +God! if I was only sure they doped me."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Who? Why—gee, you nearly had me talking that time! Nix on the +questions, Geoff, I ain't goin' to give 'em away; it ain't playin' +square. Only, if two or three guys dopes a guy till a guy's think-box is +like a cheese an' his mind as clear as mud, that poor guy ain't to be +blamed for it, now, is he?"</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly!" nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"How d' ye make that out?"</p> + +<p>"For being such a fool of a guy as to let other guys fool him, of +course. Sounds a little cryptic, but I guess you understand."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I get you!" sighed Spike drearily. "But say, didn't you come out to +buy a toothbrush?"</p> + +<p>"And other things, yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, say, s'pose we quit chewing th' rag an' start in an' get 'em. +There's a Sheeny store on Ninth Avenue where you can get dandy shirts +for fifty cents a throw."</p> + +<p>"Sounds fairly reasonable!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee as they turned up +Thirty-ninth Street.</p> + +<p>"Then you want a new lid, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee took off the battered hat and looked at it.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with this?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Nothin', Geoff, only it wants burnin'," sighed Spike. "An' then—them +boots—oh, gee!"</p> + +<p>"Are they so bad as that?"</p> + +<p>"Geoff, they sure are the punkest pavement pounders in little old N' +York. Why, a Dago hodcarrier wouldn't be seen dead in 'em; look at th' +patches. Gee whizz! Where did His Whiskers dig 'em up from?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy they were his own—once," answered Mr. Ravenslee, surveying his +bulbous, be-patched footgear a little ruefully.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll gamble a stack of blue chips there ain't such a phoney pair +in Manhattan Village."</p> + +<p>"They're not exactly things of beauty, I'll admit," sighed Mr. +Ravenslee, "but still—"</p> + +<p>"They're rotten, Geoff! They're all to the garbage can! They are the +cheesiest proposition in sidewalk slappers I ever piped off!"</p> + +<p>"Hum! You're inclined to be a trifle discouraging, Spike!"</p> + +<p>"Why, ye see, Geoff, I wan'cher t' meet th' push, an' I don't want 'em +to think I'm floatin' around with a down-an'-out from Battyville! You +must have some real shoes, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Enough—it shall be done!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Well, tan Oxfords are all to th' grapes just now, Geoff. I don't mean +those giddy-lookin' pumps with flossy bows onto 'em, but somethin' +sporty, good an' yellow that'll flash an' let folks know you're comin'. +And here's Eckstein's!"</p> + +<p>With which abrupt remark Spike plunged into a shop, very dark and narrow +by reason of a heterogeneous collection of garments, of ribbons and +laces, of collars and ties of many shapes and hues, together with a +thousand and one other things that displayed themselves from floor to +ceiling; amidst which, Mr. Ravenslee observed a stir, a slight +confusion, and from a screen of vivid-bosomed shirts a head protruded +itself, round as to face and sleek as to hair.</p> + +<p>"Greetin's, Ikey!" said Spike, nodding to the head. "How's pork to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Aw—vat you vant now, hey?" enquired the head. "Vat's the vord; +now—shpit it out!"</p> + +<p>"It ain't me, Moses, it's me friend wants a sporty fit-out an' discount +for spot cash, see? Show us your half-dollar shirts for a starter—an' +sporty ones, mind!"</p> + +<p>Immediately out came drawers and down came boxes, and very soon the +small counter was littered with piles of raiment variously gaudy which +Spike viewed and disparaged with such knowing judgment that the +salesman's respect proportionately grew, and Mr. Ravenslee, lounging in +the background, was forgotten quite, the while they chaffered after this +manner:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salesman</span>. "Here vos a shirt as can't be beat for der +money—neglegee boosom an' turnover cuffs, warranted shrunk, and all for +vun dollar."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Come off, Aaron, come off! Fifty cents is th' bid!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salesman</span>. "Fifty cents? Vy, on Broadvay dey'd sharge you—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Wake up, Ike! This ain't Broadway! And fifty's the +limit!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salesman</span>. "But shust look at dem pink shtripes—so vide as an +inch! Dere's fifty cents' vorth of dye in dem shtripes, an' I'll give it +you for seventy-five cents! On Broadvay—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "We're gettin' there, Ikey, we're gettin' there; keep +on, fifty's the call!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salesman</span>. "Fifty cents! Oi! Oi! I vould be ruined! A neglegee +boosom and turnover cuffs! Vell, vell—I'll wrap it up, so—an' I make +you a present of it for—sixty! An' on Broadvay—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Come on, Geoff, Aaron's talking in his sleep! Come on, +we'll go on to Mendelbaum's; see—we want shirts, an' ties, an' socks, +an' collars, an'—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salesman</span>. "Vait—vait! Mendelbaum's a grafter—vait! I got th' +best selection of socks an' ties on Ninth Av'noo, an' here's a neglegee +shirt with turnover cuffs—an' only fifty cents. But at Mendelbaum's or +on Broadvay—"</p> + +<p>In this way Mr. Ravenslee became possessed of sundry shirts whose bosoms +blushed in striped and spotted splendour, of vivid-hued ties and of +handkerchiefs with flaming borders. From shop to shop Spike led him and, +having a free hand, bought right royally, commanding that their +purchases be sent around hotfoot to Mulligan's. Thus Spike ordered, and +Mr. Ravenslee dutifully paid, marvelling that so much might be bought +for so little.</p> + +<p>"I guess that's about all the fixings you'll need, Geoff!" said Spike, +as they elbowed their way along the busy avenue.</p> + +<p>"Well," answered Mr. Ravenslee, as he filled his pipe, "it will +certainly take me some time to wear 'em out—especially those shirts!"</p> + +<p>"They sure are dandies, Geoff! Yes, those shirts are all to the +lollipops, but say, you made a miscue gettin' them black shoes," and +here Spike turned to stare down at his companion's newly acquired +footwear. "Why not buy the yellow boys I rustled up for you. They sure +were some shoes!"</p> + +<p>"They were indeed, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Gee, but it must feel good t' be able t' buy whatever you want!" sighed +Spike dreamily. "Some day I mean to have a wad big enough t' choke a +cow—but I wish I had it right now!"</p> + +<p>"What would you do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Do with it! Well, say, first off I'd—I'd buy Hermy them roses—th' +whole lot," and he pointed where, among the pushcarts drawn up against +the curb, was one where roses bloomed, filling the air with their +sweetness. "An' next she should—"</p> + +<p>"Then go and buy 'em, Spike!" and speaking, Mr. Ravenslee thrust a bill +into Spike's hand.</p> + +<p>"Gee—a twenty-spot! Can I, Geoff?" he cried, his blue eyes shining. +"Th' whole lot—on d' level?"</p> + +<p>"On the level."</p> + +<p>Spike started joyfully away, paused, turned, and came back with head +a-droop.</p> + +<p>"I guess it can't be done, Geoff," he sighed.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, y' see, it ain't as it was my own money, really."</p> + +<p>"But it is!"</p> + +<p>"No, it ain't! I haven't earned it, Geoff, an' I ain't a guy as sponges +on his pals, not much I ain't. Take your money, Geoff. When I buy Hermy +anything it's goin' to be bought with money as I've earned."</p> + +<p>So Mr. Ravenslee thrust the bill back into his pocket and thereafter +walked on, frowning and very silent, as one lost in perplexed thought. +Wherefore, after more than one furtive glance at him, Spike addressed +him with a note of diffidence in his voice.</p> + +<p>"You ain't sore with me, are you, Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"Sore with you?"</p> + +<p>"I mean, because I—I didn't take your money?"</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Ravenslee turned to glance down at Spike and clap a hand upon +his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, "I'm not sore with you. And I think—yes, I think +your sister is going to be proud of you one day."</p> + +<p>And now it was Spike's turn to grow thoughtful, while his companion, +noting the flushed brow and the firm set of the boyish lips, frowned no +longer.</p> + +<p>"Hello, there's Tony!" exclaimed Spike as they turned into Forty-second +Street, "over there—behind the pushcart—th' guy with th' peanuts!" And +he pointed where, from amid a throng of vehicles, a gaily painted barrow +emerged, a barrow whereon were peanuts unbaked, baked, and baking as the +shrill small whistle above its stove proclaimed to all and sundry. It +was propelled by a slender, graceful, olive-skinned man, who, beholding +Spike, flashed two rows of brilliant teeth and halted his barrow beside +the curb.</p> + +<p>"How goes it, Tony?" questioned Spike, whereat the young Italian smiled, +and thereafter sighed and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Da beezeneez-a ver' good," he sighed, "da peanut-a sell-a all-a da +time! But my lil' Pietro he sick, he no da same since his moder die-a, +me no da same—have-a none of da luck—noding—nix!"</p> + +<p>"Hard cheese, Tony!" quoth Spike. "But say, have you seen th' Spider +kickin' around?"</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't! But you tell-a da Signorina—"</p> + +<p>"Sure I will—"</p> + +<p>"My lil' Pietro he love-a da Signorina; me, I love-a her—she so good, +so generosa, ah, yes!" And taking off his hat in one hand, Tony kissed +the other and waved it gracefully in the air.</p> + +<p>"Right-o, Tony!" nodded Spike. "You can let it go at that. An' say—this +is me friend Geoff."</p> + +<p>Tony gripped Mr. Ravenslee's hand and shook it.</p> + +<p>"You one o' da bunch—one o' da boys, hey? Good-a luck." So saying, Tony +nodded, flashed his white teeth again, and seizing the handles of his +barrow, trundled off his peanut oven, whistling soft and shrill.</p> + +<p>"Tony's only a guinney," Spike explained as they walked on again. "But +he's white, Geoff—'n' say, he's a holy terror in a mix-up! Totes one o' +them stiletto knives. I've seen him stab down into a glass full of water +an' never spill a drop, which sure wants some doing."</p> + +<p>Evening was falling, and dismal Tenth Avenue was wrapping itself in +shadow, a shadow made more manifest by small lights that burned dismally +in small and dingy shops, a shadow, this, wherein moving shadows jostled +with lounging shoulder or elbow. As they passed a certain dark entry +where divers of these vague shadows lounged, a long arm was stretched +thence, and a large hand gripped Spike's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Why—hello, Spider," said he, halting. "What's doin'?"</p> + +<p>"Nawthin' much, Kid—only little M—'say, who's wid you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is a friend o' mine—Geoff, dis is d' Spider!" explained +Spike.</p> + +<p>Visualised in "the Spider" Ravenslee saw a tall, slender youth, very +wide in the shoulder and prodigiously long of arm and leg, and who +looked at him keen-eyed from beneath a wide cap brim, while his square +jaws worked with untiring industry upon a wad of chewing gum.</p> + +<p>"Good evening!" said Ravenslee and held out his hand. The Spider ceased +chewing for a moment, nodded, and turning to Spike, chewed fiercer than +ever.</p> + +<p>"Where youse goin', Kid?" he enquired, masticating the while.</p> + +<p>"What was you goin' to tell me, Spider?" demanded Spike, a note of +sudden anxiety in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Nawthin', Kid."</p> + +<p>"Aw—come off, Spider! What was it?"</p> + +<p>The Spider glanced up at the gloomy sky, glanced down at the dingy +pavement, and finally beckoned Spike aside with a quick back-jerk of the +head, and, stooping close, whispered something in his ear—something +that caused the boy to start away with clenched hands and face of +horror, something that seemed to trouble him beyond speech, for he stood +a moment dumb and staring, then found utterance in a sudden, hoarse cry:</p> + +<p>"No—no! It ain't true—oh, my God!"</p> + +<p>And with the cry, Spike turned sharp about and, springing to a run, +vanished into the shadows.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" demanded Ravenslee, turning on the Spider.</p> + +<p>"Matter?" repeated that youth, staring at him under his cap brim again; +"well, say—I guess you'd better ask d' Kid."</p> + +<p>"Where's he gone?"</p> + +<p>"How do I know?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't—his sister, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Hermione? Well, I guess not!" So saying, the Spider, chewing +ferociously, turned and vanished down the dark entry with divers other +shadows.</p> + +<p>For a moment Mr. Ravenslee stood where he was, staring uncertainly after +him; presently however he went on toward Mulligan's, though very slowly, +and with black brows creased in frowning perplexity.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>CONCERNING ANKLES, STAIRS, AND NEIGHBOURLINESS</h3> + + +<p>It was in no very pleasant humour that Geoffrey Ravenslee began to climb +the many stairs (that much-trodden highway) that led up to his new +abode; he climbed them slowly, frowning in a dark perplexity, and wholly +unconscious of the folk that jostled him or paused to stare after him as +he went.</p> + +<p>But presently, and all at once, he became aware of one who climbed half +a flight above him, and, glancing up, he saw a foot in a somewhat worn +shoe, a shapely foot nevertheless, joined to a slender ankle which +peeped and vanished alternately beneath a neat, well-brushed skirt that +swayed to the vigorous action of the shapely limbs it covered. He was +yet observing the soft, rounded curves of this most feminine back when +he became aware of two facts: one, that she bore a heavy suit case in +her neatly gloved hand; two, that the tress of hair peeping rebellious +beneath the neat hat brim was of a wondrous yellow gold. Instantly he +hastened his steps, and reaching out his hand almost instinctively, +sought to relieve her of her burden.</p> + +<p>"Allow me!" said he.</p> + +<p>She stopped, and turning on the stair above, looked down on him with a +pair of wondering blue eyes; her cheeks glowed, and she was panting a +little. For a long moment they fronted each other thus silently upon +that grimy, narrow stair, she above with gracious head stooped, her dark +eyes questioning and wistful. And looking up into the flushed loveliness +of her face, those eyes deep and soft beneath their long, black lashes, +the tender droop of those vivid lips, beholding all this, he knew her to +be a thousand times more beautiful than any photograph could possibly +portray, wherefore he bared his head, and striving to speak, could find +no words to utter. For a moment longer she hesitated while her clear +eyes searched his face, then the red lips curved in a little wistful +smile.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" she said, and, yielding him her burden, led the way +up-stairs. "I'm afraid it's rather heavy," she said over her shoulder +after they had climbed another flight.</p> + +<p>"It's quite too heavy for you!" he answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I've carried it often before now."</p> + +<p>"Then you shouldn't!"</p> + +<p>"But I have to!"</p> + +<p>"No," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "you should let your brother +bring it up for you."</p> + +<p>"My brother!" she exclaimed, pausing to look her amazement. And again as +she stood thus poised above him, he took joy to note the warmth of her +rich colouring, the soft, round column of her white throat, the gracious +breadth of hip and shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You know I have a brother?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Spike—er—that is, Arthur and I are quite—er—ancient +cronies—pals, you know—friends, I mean—" Mr. Ravenslee was actually +stammering.</p> + +<p>"Oh, really?" she said softly; but all at once, becoming aware of the +fixity of his regard, the colour deepened in her cheek, the long lashes +drooped and, turning away, she went on up the stair.</p> + +<p>"It's a long way up yet! Hadn't you better let me take it?"</p> + +<p>"Not for worlds!" he answered.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it getting heavier?" she enquired, as they climbed the next +flight.</p> + +<p>"Decidedly heavier!"</p> + +<p>"Then please," said she, slackening her pace, "please let me take it!"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," he answered, his gaze on her slender foot and ankle, +"I should like to carry it for you all my—er—ah, that is—I mean—"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee was stammering again.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>He was aware that the shapely foot had faltered in its going.</p> + +<p>"As often as I may, Miss Hermione."</p> + +<p>Hereupon the shapely foot halted altogether, and once again she turned +to look at him in wide-eyed surprise.</p> + +<p>"You know my name?"</p> + +<p>"I learned it from Arthur, and—I shall never forget it!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, because it is rather uncommon and—very beautiful!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Hermione, and went on up the stair again, yet not before he +had seen the flush was back in her cheek.</p> + +<p>"Are you getting tired yet?" she enquired, without looking round.</p> + +<p>"Not appreciably," he answered, "but if you think I need a rest—"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she laughed, "we should never get off these frightful stairs!"</p> + +<p>"Even that might have its compensations!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"And we've been much longer than if you'd let me carry it up myself."</p> + +<p>"But then we've no cause for panting haste, have we?" he suggested.</p> + +<p>"And we have four more flights to climb."</p> + +<p>"So few!" he sighed.</p> + +<p>"You see, I live at the very tip-top."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said he.</p> + +<p>At this she glanced down at him over the sweep of her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Why 'good'?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Because I also live at the tip-top."</p> + +<p>"Do you—oh!"</p> + +<p>"With the excellent Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"But I thought she had lost her lodger?"</p> + +<p>"She had the—er—extreme good fortune to find a new one to-day."</p> + +<p>"Meaning you?"</p> + +<p>"Meaning me."</p> + +<p>By this time they had reached the topmost landing, where Mr. Ravenslee +set down the suit case almost reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" said Hermione, looking at him with her frank gaze.</p> + +<p>"Heaven send I may earn your thanks again—and very soon," he answered, +lifting the battered hat.</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell me your name!" said she, fumbling in a well-worn little +hand bag for her latchkey.</p> + +<p>"I am called Geoffrey."</p> + +<p>Hermione opened the door and, taking up the suit case, held out her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Mr. Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"For the present!" said he, and though his tone was light there was a +very real humility in his attitude as he stood bareheaded before her. +"For the present!" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Well—we are very near neighbours," said she, dark lashes a-droop.</p> + +<p>"And neighbourliness is next to godliness—isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Is it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think so, anyway? So, Miss Hermione—not 'good-by.'"</p> + +<p>She glanced swiftly up at him, flushed, and turning about, was gone. But +even so, before her door closed quite, she spoke soft-voiced: +"Good—evening, Mr. Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>Thereafter, for a space, Mr. Ravenslee stood precisely where he was, +staring hard at the battered hat; yet it is not to be supposed that the +sight of this could possibly have brought the smile to his lips, and +into his eyes a look that surely none had ever seen there before—such +a preposterously shabby, disreputable old hat! Of course not!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>OF CANDIES AND CONFIDENCES</h3> + + +<p>"Oh!" said Mrs. Trapes, "so you've come? Good land, Mr. Geoffrey, +there's parcels an' packages been a-coming for you constant ever since +you went out! Whatever have you been a-buying of?" And opening the door +of his small bedroom, she indicated divers packages with a saucepan lid +she happened to be holding.</p> + +<p>"Well," said her lodger, seating himself upon the bed, "if I remember +rightly, there are shirts, and socks, and pajamas, and a few other +oddments of the sort. And here, when I can get it out of my pocket, is a +box of candies. I don't know if you are fond of such things, but most of +the sex feminine are, I believe. Pray take them as a mark of +my—er—humble respect!"</p> + +<p>"Candy!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, turning the gaily bedecked box over and +over, and glaring at it fierce-eyed. "Fer me?"</p> + +<p>"If you will deign acceptance."</p> + +<p>"Candy!" she repeated, elbows a-twitch. "Fer me? Land sakes, Mr. +Geoffrey, I—I—" Here, very abruptly, she turned about and vanished +into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee, lounging upon his white bed, was taking languid stock of +his purchases when Mrs. Trapes suddenly reappeared, clutching a toasting +fork.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey," she said, glaring still, "them candies must ha' cost you +a sight o' money?"</p> + +<p>"True, certain monies were expended, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"They must ha' cost you well nigh a dollar-fifty, I reckon?"</p> + +<p>"They did!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, smiling.</p> + +<p>"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, and vanished again.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee was sighing over a hideously striped shirt when Mrs. +Trapes was back again, flourishing a very large tablespoon.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "it's nigh forty years since any one bought me +a box o' chocolates! An' now they look so cute all done up in them gold +an' silver wrappings as I don't wanter eat 'em—seems a sin, it do. +But—Mr. Geoffrey I—I'd like to—thank ye—" and lo, she was gone +again!</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee had just pitched the striped shirt out of the window when +behold, Mrs. Trapes was back yet once more, this time grasping a much +battered but more bepolished dish cover.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "I ain't good at thankin' folks, no, I ain't +much on gratitood—never having had much to gratify over—but them +candies is goin' to be consoomed slow an' reverent and in a proper +sperrit o' gratitood. And now if you're ready to eat your supper, your +supper's a-waitin' to be ate!"</p> + +<p>So saying, she led the way into the parlour, where upon a snowy cloth, +in a dish tastefully garnished with fried tomatoes, the English mutton +chop reposed, making the very most of itself; the which Mr. Ravenslee +forthwith proceeded to attack with surprising appetite and gusto.</p> + +<p>"Is it tender?" enquired Mrs. Trapes anxiously. "Heaven pity that +butcher if it ain't! Is it tasty, kind of?"</p> + +<p>"It's delicious," nodded her lodger. "Really, Hell's Kitchen seems to +suit me; I eat and sleep like a new man!"</p> + +<p>"So you ain't lived here long, Mr. Geoffrey?" queried Mrs. Trapes, +eagle-eyed.</p> + +<p>"Not long enough to—er—sigh for pastures new. Don't go, Mrs. Trapes, +I love to hear folks talk; sit down and tell me tales of dead kings +and—er—I mean, converse of our neighbours, will you?"</p> + +<p>"I will so, an' thank ye kindly, Mr. Geoffrey, if you don't mind me +sucking a occasional candy?"</p> + +<p>"Pray do, Mrs. Trapes," he said heartily; whereupon, having fetched her +chocolates, Mrs. Trapes ensconced herself in the easy chair and opening +the box, viewed its contents with glistening eyes.</p> + +<p>"You're an Englishman, ain't you?" she enquired after a while, munching +luxuriously.</p> + +<p>"No, but my mother was born in England."</p> + +<p>"You don't say!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes. "So was I—born in the Old Kent +Road, Mr. Geoffrey. I came over to N' York thirty long years ago as cook +general to Hermy Chesterton's ma. When she went and married again, I +left her an' got married myself to Trapes—a foreman, Mr. Geoffrey, with +a noble 'eart as 'ad wooed me long!" Here Mrs. Trapes opened the candy +box again and, after long and careful deliberation, selected a chocolate +with gentle, toil-worn fingers, and putting it in her mouth, sighed her +approbation. "They sure are good!" she murmured. "But talkin' o' Hermy +Chesterton's ma," she went on after a blissful interval, "I been +wondering where you came to meet that b'y Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mrs. Trapes," sighed Ravenslee, leaning back in his chair and +shaking a rueful head, "you touch on gloomy matters. As the story books +say, 'thereby hangs a tale'—the dismal tale of a miserable wretch whose +appetite was bad, whose sleep was worse, and whose temper was worst of +all—oh, a very wretched wretch indeed!"</p> + +<p>"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, stopping abruptly in the act of +masticating a large chocolate walnut, "so bad as that, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Worse!" he nodded gloomily. "It is indeed a gloomy tale, a tale dark +and dismal that I love not the telling of, for, Mrs. Trapes, that more +than hopeless wretch stands, or rather sits, before you!"</p> + +<p>"Save us!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, "meanin' yourself?"</p> + +<p>"My unworthy self!"</p> + +<p>"Lord!" she whispered, "what you been a-doin' of?"</p> + +<p>"Wasting a promising life, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"You mean," she questioned in a harsh whisper, "you mean as +you've—killed some one—accidental?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, the life was mine own, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey, you give me quite a turn! Y' see, sometimes +folks gets theirselves killed around here—an' it's always +accidental—sure!" and Mrs. Trapes nodded meaningly and went on chewing. +"But say," she demanded, suddenly sharp of eye, "where does Arthur come +in?"</p> + +<p>"Arthur comes in right here, Mrs. Trapes! In fact, Arthur broke into +my—er—life just when things were at their darkest generally. Arthur +found me very depressed and gloomy. Arthur taught me that life might yet +have its uses. Arthur lifted me out of the Slough of Despond. Arthur +brought me—to you! And behold! life is good and perchance shall be even +better if—ah yes, if! So you see, my dear Mrs. Trapes, Arthur has done +much for me, consequently I have much to thank Arthur for. Indeed, I +look upon Arthur—"</p> + +<p>"Shucks!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "that'll be about enough about +Arthur—Arthur, indeed! You oughter know his sister!" Now at this her +lodger started and glanced at her so suddenly, and with eyes so +unexpectedly keen that once again she suspended mastication.</p> + +<p>"Now, in the name of all that's wonderful, Mrs. Trapes, why mention +her?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because she's worth knowin'! Because she's the best, the bravest, +the sweetest thing that ever went in petticoats. She's beautiful inside +and out—mind, I've nursed her in these arms years ago an' I know +she's—oh, well, you ought to meet Hermy!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, I have!"</p> + +<p>"Eh? You have? My lan'!" Mrs. Trapes bolted a caramel in her +astonishment and thereafter stared at Ravenslee with watering eyes. "An' +you to set there an' never tell me!" quoth she, "an' Hermy never told +me—well, well! When did ye meet her? Whereabouts? How?"</p> + +<p>"About half an hour ago! Coming up the stairs! I carried her grip!"</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, staring, "well, well!" and she continued +to munch candy and to stare and say "well!" at intervals until arrested +by a new thought. "That b'y!" she exclaimed. "Was Arthur with her?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Ravenslee, wrinkling his brows, "I lost him on my way +home."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes sighed and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"The sun sure rises and sets for her in that b'y—an' him only her +stepbrother at that!"</p> + +<p>"Her stepbrother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" nodded Mrs. Trapes emphatically. "Hermy's ma were a lady, same as +Hermy is; so were her pa, I mean a gentleman, of course. But Hermy's +father died, an' then her ma, poor soul, goes an' marries a good-lookin' +loafer way beneath her, a man as weren't fit to black her shoes, let +alone take 'em off! And Arthur's his father's child. Oh, a good enough +b'y as b'ys go, but wild, now and then, and rough, like his dad."</p> + +<p>"I see!" nodded her hearer, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Now me, though married ten long year, never 'ad no children, so ever +since Hermy's mother died, I've tried to watch over her and help her +as much as I could. She's had a mighty hard struggle, one thing and +another, Mr. Geoffrey, an' now I've known her an' loved her so long it +kind o' seems as if she belonged to me—almost!"</p> + +<p>"She looks very good and—brave!" said Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Good!" cried Mrs. Trapes, and snorted. "I tell you she's jest a angel +o' light, Mr. Geoffrey. If you'd seen her, like I have, goin' from one +poor little sick child to another, kissing their little hot faces, +tellin' 'em stories, payin' for doctor's stuff out of her bit o' +savings, mendin' their clo'es—an' prayin' over 'em when they +died—why—I guess you'd think she was a angel too! One sure thing," +said Mrs. Trapes rising, "there ain't a breathin' man in all this whole +round earth as is fit to go down on 'is knees an' kiss 'er little +foot—not a one! No, sir!"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think there is!" said Mr. Ravenslee slowly.</p> + +<p>"As for that Bud M'Ginnis," cried Mrs. Trapes, seizing on the coffee-pot +much as if it had been that gentleman's throat, "I'd—I'd like to—bat +him one as would quiet him for keeps—I would so!" and she jerked the +coffee-pot fiercely, much to the detriment of her snowy tablecloth. +"There! now see what I done, but I do get all worked up over that +loafer!"</p> + +<p>"Pray why?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" snorted Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Hasn't he made eyes at her ever +since they was kids together? Hasn't he worried and worried at her, an' +because she won't look at him if she can help it, don't he try to get +back at her through that b'y—"</p> + +<p>"How does he?"</p> + +<p>"How? By puttin' him up to fightin' an' all sorts o' devilment, by +teachin' him to be tough, by gettin' him drunk—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Why, bless ye, Bud M'Ginnis can do anything with him!"</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"Because Arthur jest worships M'Ginnis for his strength and toughness!"</p> + +<p>"I see!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Arthur thinks there's nobody in the world could lick Bud +M'Ginnis."</p> + +<p>"Hum! May I smoke, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>"Sure ye may!" she nodded, and began to collect the supper things. "I +tell you what," she exclaimed suddenly, flourishing the fork she had +just taken up, "if somebody would only come along an' thrash M'Ginnis, +thrash him good, it would be a sight better for every one around +here—it would so! M'Ginnis is always makin' trouble for some one or +other, an' there ain't a man big enough or got heart enough to stand up +to him—not even Spider Connolly. Wish I was a man, that's all—just for +an hour! Ah!" Here Mrs. Trapes snorted fiercer than usual, and the jut +of her elbows was deadly.</p> + +<p>"And he gets Arthur drunk, does he!" said Ravenslee, puffing dreamily at +his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" sighed Mrs. Trapes as she loaded a tray with the supper things. +"Hermy's seen him drunk twice, to my knowing, an' I thought it would +break her 'eart, poor dear! Y' see, Mr. Geoffrey, his father died o' the +drink, an' she's frightened for fear Arthur should go the same road. Oh, +Hermy's life ain't all ice-cream sodas an' lollipops, not much it ain't, +poor, brave, beautiful thing!"</p> + +<p>Saying which, Mrs. Trapes, sighing again, took up her tray; Mr. +Ravenslee, having opened the door for her, closed it again, lighted his +pipe, and sinking into the easy-chair, fell into frowning thought.</p> + +<p>The windows were open, and from the crowded court below rose the shrill +babel of many children's voices, elfin shrieks and cries accompanied by +the jingle of a barrel-organ, very wiry and very much out of tune; but +Ravenslee, deep-plunged in thought, heard nought of it nor heeded the +fact that the pipe, tight-clenched between his strong, white teeth, was +out. For Geoffrey Ravenslee had set himself a problem.</p> + +<p>The barrel-organ ceased its jangle, the children's voices were gradually +hushed, as, one by one, they were called in by hoarse-voiced mothers and +led away to bed; and the gloomy court grew ever gloomier as evening +deepened into night. But still Mr. Ravenslee lounged in the easy-chair, +so motionless that he might have been asleep except for the grim set of +his jaw and the bright, wide-open eyes of him.</p> + +<p>At last, and suddenly, he sat erect, for he had heard a voice whose soft +murmur he recognised even through the closed door.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Hermy dear," came in Mrs. Trapes' harsh tones, "I'm +afraid he's gone to bed—anyway, I'll see!" Ensued a knocking of bony +knuckles and, opening the door, Ravenslee beheld Mrs. Trapes. Behind her +stood Hermione, and in her eyes he saw again that look of wistful, +anxious fear he had wondered over at the first.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey," said Mrs. Trapes, "it's eleven o'clock, an' that b'y +ain't in yet. Here's Hermy been out hunting the streets for him and +ain't found him. Consequently she's worriting herself sick over +him—drat 'im!"</p> + +<p>"Out on the streets!" repeated Ravenslee. "Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Hermione, "I had to—try and find him."</p> + +<p>"But alone! And at this hour! Miss Hermione, that was surely +very—er—unwise of you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see I didn't know where to look," she sighed. "I've been to +the saloon but he wasn't there—"</p> + +<p>"The saloon? Good Lord!" exclaimed Ravenslee, his placidity quite +forgotten, his face set and stern. "That is no place for you—or any +girl—"</p> + +<p>"I must go to find Arthur," she said softly.</p> + +<p>"No, not there—even for that."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Think of the—the risks you run! No girl should take such chances."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean—that!" said Hermione, meeting his eyes with her frank +glance. "But no one would try to insult me hereabouts; this isn't +Broadway or Fifth Avenue, Mr. Geoffrey!" and she smiled a very sad, +weary little smile. "But I came to ask if you happened to know where +Arthur is or—whom he was with?"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't wid that Bud M'Ginnis, was he?" questioned Mrs. Trapes sharply.</p> + +<p>"No, he wasn't with M'Ginnis," answered Mr. Ravenslee, in frowning +perplexity, "but that's about all I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," sighed the girl, "I must go and try again. I know I shall +find him—soon." But, though she tried to speak in a tone of cheerful +confidence, her shapely head drooped rather hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"You mean you are going out on to the—to look for him again?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," she answered, "I must find Arthur!"</p> + +<p>"Don't, Hermy, don't—so pale an' tired as you are, don't go again!" +pleaded Mrs. Trapes, her usual sharpness transfigured into a deep and +yearning tenderness; even her voice seemed to lose something of its +harshness. "Don't worry, my sweet, the b'y'll find his way home right +enough, like he did last time."</p> + +<p>"Like—last time!" cried Hermione, and shivering, she leaned against the +wall as if she were faint. "Ah, no, no!" she whispered, "not—like last +time!" and bowing her head she hid her face in her hands.</p> + +<p>Close, close about that quivering form came two motherly arms, and Mrs. +Trapes fell to passionate invective and tender soothing, thus:</p> + +<p>"There, there, my love—my pretty, don't remember that last time! Oh, +drat my fool's tongue for remindin' you, drat it, my dear, my honey! Ah, +don't go breakin' your angel's 'eart along of Arthur, my precious—and +drat him too! That b'y'll come back all right, he will—he will, I know +he will. Oh, if I was only behind 'im with a toasting fork! There, +there, Hermy dear, don't fret, Arthur'll come home all right. My honey, +you're all tuckered out, an' here it's gettin' on to midnight, an' you +to go to Englewood by the early car! Go to bed, dear, an' I'll sit up +for Arthur. Only don't cry, Hermy—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not crying, dear," said Hermione, lifting her head. "See, I +haven't shed a tear! But I must find Arthur. I couldn't rest or sleep; +I should lie listening for his step. So you see, dear, I must go out and +find him!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon, with swift, dexterous fingers, Hermione straightened the very +neat hat which the embrace of Mrs. Trapes had rendered somewhat askew, +and, turning to the door, came face to face with Mr. Ravenslee, and in +his hand she beheld his battered hat, but she did not notice how +fiercely his powerful fingers gripped it.</p> + +<p>"Miss Hermione," said he, in his soft, indolent voice, and regarding +her beneath languidly drooping lids, "pray accept the hospitality of +my—er—apartment. You will find the easy-chair is very easy, and while +you sit here with Mrs. Trapes, I'll find your brother and bring him here +to you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she answered a little shortly because of his lazy tone or +his sleepy eyes, or his general languid air, or all of them together. +"Thank you, but I'm going myself; I must go, I—I couldn't wait—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but really you must, you know!"</p> + +<p>"Must?" she repeated, looking her surprise.</p> + +<p>"Ab-solutely must!" he answered softly, nodding so sleepily that she +almost expected him to yawn. "You really can't go out again to-night, +you know," he added. Hermione's blue eyes flashed, her delicate brows +knit themselves, and Mr. Ravenslee saw that she was taller than he had +thought.</p> + +<p>"You mean you will—try to stop me?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"No, I mean that I—will stop you!"</p> + +<p>"But you'd never dare—"</p> + +<p>"I would dare even your anger in so good a cause. Ah, please don't be +angry with me, Miss Hermione, because—" and here his sleepy voice grew +positively slumberous, "you shall not go out into the streets again +to-night!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, an' that's right too, Mr. Geoffrey!" cried Mrs. Trapes. "Hermy +needs some one strong enough to master her now an' then, she is that +wilful, she is so!"</p> + +<p>But now all at once, as he watched, Hermione's eyes filled with great, +slow-gathering tears, her firm-set lips grew soft and quivered +pitifully, and she sank down in the easy-chair, her golden head bowed +upon the green and yellow tablecloth. The battered hat tumbled to the +floor, and striding forward, he had bent and caught one of her listless +hands all in a moment, and thereafter, though it struggled feebly once, +he held it closely prisoned in his own.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" he pleaded, his words coming quick and eager, "don't do +that! Do you think I can't see that you're all overwrought? How can I +let you go tramping out there in the streets again? You couldn't go—you +mustn't go! Stay here with good Mrs. Trapes, I beg of you, and I swear +I'll bring Arthur to you! Only you must promise me to wait here and be +patient, however long I am—you must promise, Hermione!"</p> + +<p>She lifted her heavy head and looked at him through her tears. And +surely, surely in the face that bent above her was none of indolence or +languor. These lips were firm now and close-set, these lazy eyes were +wide and bright, and in them that which brought the warm colour to her +cheeks; but reverence was there also, wherefore she met his look, and +her fingers were not withdrawn from his until she had answered: "I +promise!"</p> + +<p>"That's my wise dearie!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "And good luck to ye, Mr. +Geoffrey, an' when you find that b'y, say as I wish—ah, how I wish I +was back of him with a toasting fork, that's all!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee caught up the shabby hat, opened the door, and going out, +closed it softly behind him.</p> + +<p>"Hermy," said Mrs. Trapes, clasping the girl's slender waist in her long +arm and leading her into the brightest of bright little kitchens, "I +like that young feller—who he is I don't know, what he does I don't +know, but what he is I do know, an' that's—a man, my dear! An' he +called you—Hermione! Sounds kind o' pretty the way he says it, don't +you think?" But Hermione didn't answer.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mr. Ravenslee, descending the monotonous stairs, paused +suddenly to smile and to clap hand to thigh.</p> + +<p>"A toasting fork!" said he, "a toasting fork is an instrument +possessing three or more sharp points! Ha! Mrs. Trapes is a woman of +singularly apposite ideas." And he smiled a little grimly as he went on +down the stairs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>WHICH RECOUNTS THE END OF AN EPISODE</h3> + + +<p>Midway down he beheld two burly policemen who mounted, one behind the +other, their grey helmets, blue coats, and silver buttons seeming to +fill the narrow stairway.</p> + +<p>"Anything wrong?" he enquired, as they drew level.</p> + +<p>"Not wid you dis time, bo!" answered one, blandly contemptuous, and +strode on up the stair, twirling his club in practised hand, his fellow +officer at his heels.</p> + +<p>Thus rebuked, Mr. Ravenslee looked after them with quick-drawn brows +until, remembering his broken hat brim and shabby clothes, he smiled and +went upon his way. Reaching the dingy lower hall he beheld the solitary +gas-jet flare whose feeble light showed five lounging forms, rough +fellows who talked together in hoarse murmurs and with heads close +together.</p> + +<p>He was passing by, when, in one of these deep-throated talkers, he +recognised the long limbs and wide, sloping shoulders of the Spider. Mr. +Ravenslee paused and nodded.</p> + +<p>"Good evening!" said he, but this time kept his hands in his pockets. +The Spider eyed him somewhat askance, shifted his wad of chewing gum +from one cheek to the other, and spoke.</p> + +<p>"'Lo!" said he.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where Spike is?"</p> + +<p>"S'pose I do—then what?" demanded the Spider with a truculent lurch of +his wide shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Then I shall ask you to tell me where I can find him—or better still, +you might show me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, might I?"</p> + +<p>"You might!"</p> + +<p>The feelings of the Spider waxing beyond mere words, he looked at the +speaker, viewed him up and down with a glance of contemptuous hostility, +whereat Ravenslee's whole expression melted into one of lamblike +meekness.</p> + +<p>"Say," quoth the Spider at last, "there's only one thing as I can't +stand about you, an' that's—everything!"</p> + +<p>"Sorry for that," murmured Ravenslee, "because I rather like you, +Spider. I think you could be quite a decent fellow if you tried very +hard! Come, shake your grouch and let's be friends."</p> + +<p>"Say," growled the Spider, "what you're sufferin' from's a hard neck! +You ain't no friend o' mine—not much you ain't, savvy? So crank up an' +get on yer way like a good little feller!"</p> + +<p>"But you see I'm anxious to find Spike because—"</p> + +<p>"Well, say, you keep on bein' anxious, only do it somewheres else. I +don't want youse around where I am, see? So beat it while d' goin's +good!"</p> + +<p>"Why—er—no," said Ravenslee in his laziest tones, "no, I don't think +I'll beat it. I guess I'll stay right here and wait until you are so +kind, so—er—very kind and obliging as to show me where I can find +Spike." And he sighed plaintively as he lounged against the wall behind, +but his eyes were surprisingly bright and quick beneath the shadow of +the battered hat.</p> + +<p>"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, expectorating contemptuously, "hark +to the flossy-boy, fellers! Aw, run away, now!" said he, scowling +suddenly, "run away before ye get slapped on th' wrist!" and, while +divers of his companions laughed hoarsely, he turned a contemptuous back +on Mr. Ravenslee. But even then he was seized in iron fingers that +clutched his shoulder and, in that painful grip, was jerked suddenly +around again to behold a face vicious-eyed, thin-lipped, square-jawed, +fiercely outthrust. Recognising the "fighting-face", the Spider, being +a fighter of a large and varied experience, immediately "covered up", +and fell into that famous crouch of his that had proved the undoing of +so many doughty fighters ere now. Then, like a flash, his long arm shot +out, but in that same instant, Ravenslee, timing the blow to a fraction, +moved slightly, and the Spider's knuckles bruised themselves against the +wall at the precise moment that Ravenslee's open hand flipped lightly on +the side of the Spider's square, lean jaw.</p> + +<p>The Spider drew back, staring from Ravenslee's tall, alert figure to his +bruised knuckles and back again, while his companions stood by in mute +and wide-eyed wonder.</p> + +<p>"Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head in grave reproof, "you were +rather slow that time—very foolish to leave your point uncovered and +offer me your jaw like that, you know!"</p> + +<p>Five pairs of eyes stared at the speaker with a new and suddenly +awakened interest, and beholding in him that lithe assurance of poise, +that indefinable air that bespeaks the trained pugilist and which cannot +be mistaken, elbows were nudged, and heads wagged knowingly.</p> + +<p>Ravenslee's grey eyes were shining, and his pale cheeks tinged with +colour.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Spider," said he, "life is rather worth while after all, isn't it? +Spider, I like you better and better; come, don't be a surly Spider, +shake hands!"</p> + +<p>"T' hell wid youse!" growled the Spider, covering up again, and, though +his face was sulky yet was no trace of contempt there now.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," mused Ravenslee, looking him over with knowledgeful eye, +"yes, I judge, as you are now, you would fight about seven or eight +pounds over your ringside weight. You'd have to give me eighteen pounds! +Spider—I could eat you! Come, shake hands and let's go and fetch +Spike."</p> + +<p>Now, speaking, Ravenslee smiled, with eyes as well as lips; beholding +which, the Spider grew slowly upright, his knotted fists unclenched, +and, staring Ravenslee in the eyes, he reached out slowly and by +degrees and grasped the proffered hand.</p> + +<p>"Say," said he, falling to violent mastication of his eternal chewing +gum, "who'd you have d'mitts on with last—an' when?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it seems ages ago!" sighed Ravenslee. "But where's Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Say, bo, who wants him, an' whaffor? Spike's me pal, see, so I jest +shore wants ter savvy who wants him an' why?"</p> + +<p>"His sister—"</p> + +<p>"Hully Chee! Why didn't youse say so at first? When Miss Hermione wants +anything she's gotta have it, I guess! Ain't that right, fellers?"</p> + +<p>"You bet," chimed the four.</p> + +<p>"So if she wants d' Kid, I guess I'll jest have to fetch him for her. +Come on, bo! S'long, fellers!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon, having acknowledged the friendly salutes of the four, +Ravenslee followed the Spider out into the court, empty now and silent.</p> + +<p>"Say, bo, where'd you meet up wid Spike, anyway?" enquired the Spider, +as they strode along Tenth Avenue. "You don't belong around here, do +ye?"</p> + +<p>"No. Do you know where he was last night?"</p> + +<p>"You can search me, bo. All I savvy is he was off on some frame-up or +other."</p> + +<p>"Who with?"</p> + +<p>"Well—not wid me."</p> + +<p>"Did you see any one with him besides M'Ginnis at O'Rourke's?"</p> + +<p>"No, there was only them two."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I guessed as much," said Ravenslee, nodding; "he went away with +M'Ginnis—good!"</p> + +<p>"Say, bo," questioned the Spider when they had gone some way in silence, +"I ain't seen you fight anywheres, have I?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I've seen you, Spider, I saw you beat Larry McKinnon at +'Frisco."</p> + +<p>"Which sure was some fight!" nodded the Spider. "Them half-arm jolts of +his sure shook me some; he'd have got me in th' third if I hadn't +clinched."</p> + +<p>"He was a terror at in-fighting."</p> + +<p>"He sure was, bo!"</p> + +<p>"It was your jabbing and footwork won you the fight, Spider, one of the +best I've ever seen—very little clinching and clean breakaways."</p> + +<p>"Larry sure was game all through, yes—right up to the knock-out. A +good, clean fighter. 'N' say, bo, I was real sorry to see him counted +out."</p> + +<p>"It meant a big purse for you, I remember."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure, I had money to burn. I ain't got much left now, though," said +the Spider ruefully.</p> + +<p>"You came pretty near being a world's champion, Spider."</p> + +<p>"Aw—jest near enough t' miss it, I guess. Talkin' o' champeens, the +greatest of 'em, th' best fightin' man as ever swung a mitt, I reckon +was Joe Madden, as retired years ago. Nobody could ever lick Joe +Madden."</p> + +<p>"Did you know him?"</p> + +<p>"Not me, bo, I wasn't in his class. But I seen him fight years ago."</p> + +<p>"Do you think Spike will ever make a champion?" enquired Ravenslee +suddenly. "I mean if he were given every chance?"</p> + +<p>"Well," answered the Spider slowly, "he sure has the grit; ther ain't +nothin' on two legs he's afraid of except—himself, bo. He's too +high-strung. Nerves is his trouble, I reckon. Why, Chee! When he's in d' +ring he can't be still a minute, can't let himself rest between rounds, +see? He kinder beats himself, I guess."</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean," nodded Ravenslee, "and I'm sure you're right. +By the way, have you ever seen M'Ginnis fight?"</p> + +<p>"I seen him scrap once or twice—he's sure ugly in a rough-house, but in +th' ring—well, I dunno!"</p> + +<p>"Has he a punch?"</p> + +<p>"Bo, he's got a sleep-pill in each mitt if—if he can land his wallop +right! Yes, siree, if Bud can hit a guy where it'll do most good, that +guy's sure goin' to forget his cares an' troubles for a bit. But he's +slow an' heavy, Bud is, though I ain't never seen him mix it in th' +ring, mind."</p> + +<p>"H'm," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "M'Ginnis seems to have it all his +own way around here—why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, because Bud's Bud, an' because Bud's old man is a Tammany +boss—which gives Bud a big pull wid d' police. 'Nuff said, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Quite!" nodded Ravenslee, and walked thereafter deeper in thought than +ever. "Where are you taking me?" he enquired, as they turned a sudden +corner.</p> + +<p>"To d' river!"</p> + +<p>"This is Eleventh Avenue, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yep! Watch out you don't trip on d' railroad tracks." And now the +Spider seemed to have become thoughtful also, and somewhat gloomy, +judging by his face as seen by an occasional feeble light as they +traversed the unlovely thoroughfare.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said he suddenly, "I'm thinkin' there's some guys in this world as +would be better out of it. I'm thinkin' of some guy as got a little girl +into trouble—an' left her to it. Her kid died, an' her folks turned her +out, an' she'd have died too, I guess, if it hadn't been for Miss +Hermione an' old Mother Trapes—ye see, she was all alone, poor little +kid! Now a man as would treat a girl that ways ain't got no right t' +live, I reckon. I should like t' know who that guy was! I should like +t' meet that guy—once!"</p> + +<p>After this the Spider became more gloomy than ever and spoke only in +surly monosyllables. Suddenly he turned off along a narrow, ill-lighted +alleyway that led them between divers small mean houses and tall, dark +warehouses and brought them suddenly out upon the misty foreshore beyond +which the dim and mighty river flowed. On they went, the Spider's +depression growing perceptibly, until at last their feet trod the rough +planking of a narrow causeway which ended in a dark, raft-like structure +moored out in the river. Here was a small and dismal shack from whose +solitary window a feeble ray of light beamed.</p> + +<p>Ravenslee shivered suddenly and stopped to stare about him while his +listless hands changed to tight-clenched fists.</p> + +<p>What was it?</p> + +<p>What was there about this dismal, silent place that seemed to leap at +him all at once from the dimness, he knew not whence? Was it the shack +with its solitary light, or the broad river lapping with soft sighings +and low weeping sounds among the piles below, or was it something in the +altered aspect of the guiding figure that led him forward, slow and ever +slower, as if with dragging feet, and yet with feet that trod so softly?</p> + +<p>"Spider," said he at last, speaking in hushed and breathless manner, +"Spider—where are we?" and speaking he shivered again, even while his +clenched hand wiped the sweat from his brow. The Spider made no answer, +for the feeble light was blotted out by a very solid something which, +approaching softly, resolved itself into a burly, blue-clad form whose +silver buttons and shield showed conspicuous.</p> + +<p>"What's doin'!" demanded a voice. "Who is it?" The voice was hoarse and +authoritative, but the gruff tones were schooled, it seemed, to an +almost unnatural softness.</p> + +<p>"'S all right, Micky," answered the Spider in the same subdued tone, +"it's only me come for d' Kid."</p> + +<p>"Who you got wid you there, Spider?"</p> + +<p>"A pal o' mine an' d' Kid's—he's all right, Mick!" Then to Ravenslee: +"Come on, bo!" Slowly they approached the shack, but, reaching the door, +the Spider hesitated a long moment ere, lifting the latch, he led the +way in.</p> + +<p>A fairly large room was lighted by a lamp that stood upon a rickety +table before which sat a young-faced, white-haired man, very +industriously writing in a small account book; upon the table before +him were a number of articles very neatly arranged, among which +Ravenslee noticed a cheap wrist-watch, a hair-comb, a brooch, and a +small chain purse. He was yet gazing at these and at the white-haired +man, who, having nodded once to the Spider, continued to write so +busily, when he was startled to hear a long-drawn, shuddering sigh. +Turning suddenly sharp about, he stared toward a dark corner where, +among a litter of oars, misshapen bundles, boxes, and odds and ends, was +a small stove, and, crouched above it, his head between his hands, he +beheld Spike.</p> + +<p>With the same instinctive feeling that he must be silent, Ravenslee +approached the boy and touched him on the shoulder. Spike started and +glanced up, though without lifting his head.</p> + +<p>"Your sister is anxious about you. Why are you here?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know, Geoff? Ain't no one told ye?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I'll show ye!"</p> + +<p>The boy took a hurricane lamp from the floor beside him, and, having +lighted it, brought Ravenslee further into that littered corner where, +among the boxes and bundles and other oddments, lay what seemed to be +two or three oars covered with a worn tarpaulin.</p> + +<p>"Look, Geoff—you remember—only this morning!" Very gently he raised a +corner of the tarpaulin and as he looked down, Ravenslee's breath caught +suddenly.</p> + +<p>A woman's face, very young and very placid-seeming! The long, dark hair +framing the waxen features still oozed drops of water like great, +slow-falling tears; and beholding this pale, still face, Ravenslee knew +why he had shivered and hushed voice and step, and instinctively he +bowed his uncovered head.</p> + +<p>"You remember Maggie Finlay, Geoff, this morning, on the stairs? +She—she kissed me good-by, said she was goin' away; this is what she +meant—the river, Geoff! She's drowned herself, Geoff! Oh, my God!" +and letting fall the tarpaulin, Spike was shaken suddenly by fierce +hysterical sobbing; whereat the man, looking up from his writing, spoke +harsh-voiced.</p> + +<p>"Aw, quit it, Kid, quit it! Here I've just wrote down three rings, +and she's only got one, an' that a cheap fake. Shut up, Kid, you'll +make me drop blots next! Cut it out, it ain't as if she was your +sister—" Hereupon Spike started and lifted a twitching face.</p> + +<p>"My sister!" he repeated, "my sister—whatcher mean? My God, Chip, +Hermy could never—come to—that!" And shivering violently, Spike turned +and stumbled out of the shack. Once outside, Ravenslee set his long arm +about him and felt the lad still trembling violently.</p> + +<p>"Why, Spike!" said he, "buck up, old fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff, Hermy could never—"</p> + +<p>"No, no—of course not!" So very silently, together and side by side, +they crossed the narrow causeway.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but I'm cold!" said the boy between chattering teeth as they +turned along the wide avenue, "I—I guess it's shook me some, Geoff. +Y' see, I used to go to school with Maggie once—and now—"</p> + +<p>Reaching Mulligan's at last, they beheld numerous groups of whispering +folk who thronged the little court, the doorway, and the hall beyond; +they whispered together upon the stairs and murmured on dim landings. +But as Ravenslee and Spike, making their way through these groups, +mounted upward, they found one landing very silent and deserted, a +landing where was a certain battered door whose dingy panels had been +wetted with the tears of a woman's agony, had felt the yearning, +heartbroken passion of a woman's quivering lips such a very few hours +ago. Remembering which, Geoffrey Ravenslee, turning to look at this +grimy door, beheld it vague and blurred and indistinct as he turned and +climbed that much-trodden stair.</p> + +<p>Upon the top landing they found Mrs. Trapes, who leaned over the rails +to greet them.</p> + +<p>"So you found that b'y, Mr. Geoffrey. Hermy'll be glad. You'll have +heard of poor little Maggie Finlay? Poor lass—poor, lonely lass! 'T was +her father drove her to it, an' now he's had a fit—a stroke, the +doctor's with him now—an' Hermy, of course! She's always around where +trouble is. I guess there won't be much rest for her to-night—long past +midnight now! I'm glad you found that b'y. I said you would. I'll jest +go down and tell Hermy; she'll be glad."</p> + +<p>Spike stood awhile after Mrs. Trapes had gone down-stairs, very silent +and with head a-droop, then, slow and heavily, turned and opened his +door, but paused to speak over his shoulder in a hoarse whisper.</p> + +<p>"Geoff—if ever—any man—made my sister go through what Maggie Finlay +went through—I'd—shoot him dead—by God in Heaven, I would!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW MR. RAVENSLEE WENT INTO TRADE</h3> + + +<p>It was a week later, and Mr. Ravenslee leaned from the window of his +room to observe the view, which consisted chiefly of dingy brick walls +and dingier windows, swaying vistas of clothes in various stages of +dampness, clothes that fluttered from many lines stretched across the +court, from window to window, at different altitudes; for to-day it had +been washing day in Mulligan's; also the evening was warm.</p> + +<p>So Mr. Ravenslee lounged and smoked and gazed upon the many garments, +viewing them with eyes of reverie. Garments, these, of every size and +hue and shape and for either sex, garments that writhed and contorted +themselves in fantastic dances when gently stirred by a small, cool wind +which, wafting across the river from the green New Jersey shore, +breathed faintly of pine woods.</p> + +<p>He was yet in absorbed contemplation of the aerial gambols of these many +garments when to him came Mrs. Trapes, clutching a hot iron.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, what'll you eat for supper?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, what do you suppose I'm worthy of?"</p> + +<p>"How about a lovely piece o' liver?"</p> + +<p>"Liver!" he repeated, rubbing a square, smooth-shaven chin. "Hum! liver +sounds a trifle clammy, doesn't it? Clammy and cold, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"Cold?" said she, staring, "cold—of course not! It would be nice an' +hot, with thick gravy an' a tater or so. An' as for clammy, who ever +heard o' liver as wasn't? Calves' liver, mind! They can't put me off +with sheep's—no, siree! Skudder's young man tried to once—he did so!"</p> + +<p>"Foolish, foolhardy young man!" murmured Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey," sighed Mrs. Trapes, and her elbows were particularly +needle-like, "I jest took that piece o' sheep's liver an' wrapped it +round that young man's face."</p> + +<p>"Unhappy young man!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Y' see, Mr. Geoffrey, though a widder an' therefore lorn, I ain't to be +trod on in the matter of livers, or anything else!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of it, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"But if you don't kind of fancy liver, how about sassiges? Sassiges is +tasty an' filling, an' cheap. What d' ye say to sassiges?"</p> + +<p>"Sausages," answered Mr. Ravenslee, shaking grave head, "sausages demand +such unbounded faith in the—er—sausagee—or should it be sausage-or?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—a chop, cut thick an' with a kidney in it—what d' ye say to +a chop, now?"</p> + +<p>"No, a chop in an hour, Mrs. Trapes, or say, two hours, will be most +welcome. Are you very busy?"</p> + +<p>"Washing's all done, but there's a lot o' your shirts waiting to be +ironed—an' me here, lettin' me iron get cold!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind the shirts, Mrs. Trapes! Pray sit down; I need your +counsel and advice."</p> + +<p>"But me iron?"</p> + +<p>"Give it to me—there!" and Mr. Ravenslee deposited it outside on the +fire escape.</p> + +<p>"Now Mrs. Trapes," said he, "first of all, I must find work. 'Man is +born to labour, as the sparks fly upward,' you know."</p> + +<p>"Born to sorrer, you mean!" she corrected.</p> + +<p>"Precisely," he nodded, "work is sorrow, and sorrow is work—at least, +I know a good many people who think so."</p> + +<p>"More fools them!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, folding her arms.</p> + +<p>"My own idea exactly!" he answered, lazily tapping out his pipe on the +window sill.</p> + +<p>"I ain't noticed you sweating none, lately!" quoth Mrs. Trapes +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"Alas, no, Mrs. Trapes, there being no wherefore to call forth the +aforesaid—er—moisture. Still, 'man is as grass that withereth' unless +he 'goeth forth unto his labour.'"</p> + +<p>"An' quite right too!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "If I had my way I'd make 'em +all work!"</p> + +<p>"That would be rather hard on our legislators and Fifth Avenue parsons, +wouldn't it? Anyway, I want work, that's sure!"</p> + +<p>"Y' mean as your money's all gone?"</p> + +<p>"Very nearly," sighed Mr. Ravenslee with a suitable air of dejection. +And he did it so well that Mrs. Trapes, viewing him askance, frowned, +bit her lip, wriggled her elbows, and finally spoke.</p> + +<p>"Are ye up against it good, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"I am!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, frowning down at the vivid-coloured hearthrug, "I got +twenty-five dollars put away as I've pinched and scrinched to save, but +if you want the loan of 'em, you can have 'em an' welcome."</p> + +<p>Her lodger was silent; indeed, he was so long in answering that at last +Mrs. Trapes looked up, to find him regarding her with a very strange +expression.</p> + +<p>"And you will lend me your savings?" he asked her softly.</p> + +<p>"Sure I will!" And she would have risen then and there but that he +stayed her.</p> + +<p>"God bless you for a generous soul!" said he, and laughed rather +queerly; also his grey eyes were a little brighter than usual. "Why +should you trust me so far?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you look honest, I guess. An' then we all help each other in +Mulligan's now an' then, one way or another; we jest have to. There's +Mrs. Bowker, third floor—the tea an' sugar as I've loaned that +woman—an' last week a lovely beef-bone! Well, there! But if you want +the loan of that twenty-five—"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, I don't. Things aren't so desperate as that yet. All I +need is a job of some sort."</p> + +<p>"What kind o' job?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not particular."</p> + +<p>"Well—what have you been used to?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, hitherto I have lived a life of—er—riotous ease!"</p> + +<p>"That means as you ain't worked at all, I guess. Hm!" said Mrs. Trapes, +viewing him with her sharp, hawk's eye, "and yet you ain't got the look +of a confidence man nor yet a swell crook, consequently I take it you +was the only son of your father an' lost all he left you, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, you are a truly wonderful woman!"</p> + +<p>"T' be born the only son of a rich father is a pretty bad disease, I +reckon!" she continued, "yes, siree, it's bad for the child an' worse +for the man; it's bound to be his ruination in the end—like drink! And +talkin' o' drink, I'm glad to see that b'y Arthur's so fond o' you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why?"</p> + +<p>"Because you don't drink."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't go to bed in my boots, do I, Mrs. Trapes? But then I +promised you I wouldn't, and, for another thing, I'm not a poet, you +see," said he and yawned lazily.</p> + +<p>"Hermy says she's glad too."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee cut short his yawn in the middle.</p> + +<p>"Hermione? Did she say so? When?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I guessed that would wake ye up a bit!" said Mrs. Trapes, noting +his suddenly eager look. "It's a pity you're so poor, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Why? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean if you had been in a good situation an' making good +money—twenty-five per, say—you might have asked her."</p> + +<p>"Asked her?" repeated Ravenslee, staring, "asked her what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, t' marry you, o' course," nodded Mrs. Trapes. "You love her about +as much as any man can love—which is sometimes a thimbleful an' +sometimes a bit more—but you sure love her as much as a man knows how, +I guess. An' don't try for ter deny it, Mr. Geoffrey, I ain't blind, +leastways I can see a bit out o' one eye sometimes—specially where +Hermy's concerned, I can so. Of course, you ain't worthy of her—but +then no man is, to my mind!"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not worthy of her, God knows!" said Ravenslee, quite humbly.</p> + +<p>"An' Hermy's goin' to marry a man with money. Her heart's set on +it—firm!"</p> + +<p>"Money!" said Ravenslee, scowling. "She seems anything but mercenary."</p> + +<p>"Mercenary!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "I should say not! I tell ye, she could +be a-rollin' around in a six-thousand-dollar automobile at this very +hour if she was that kind. With her face an' figure! She could so!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean as there's men—rich men, an' married too—as is mad after +her—"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Ravenslee, frowning again.</p> + +<p>"You may well say 'ah!'" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Men is all beasts more or +less! Why, I could tell you things—well, there! Hermy ain't no innocent +babe but there's some things better than innocence an' that's a +chin—will-power, Mr. Geoffrey. If a woman's sweet an' strong an' +healthy like Hermy, an' got a chin—nothin' can harm her. But beauty +like hers is a curse to any good woman if she's poor, beauty being a +quick-seller, y' see!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see—I know!" said Ravenslee, clenching his hands and frowning +blacker than ever.</p> + +<p>"But," continued Mrs. Trapes, and here she leaned forward to touch him +with an impressive, toil-worn hand, "Hermy Chesterton's jest a angel o' +light an' purity; she always has been an' always will be, but she knows +about as much as a good girl can know. She's seen the worst o' poverty, +an' she's made up her mind, when she marries, to marry a man as is a man +an' can give her all the money she wants. So y' see it ain't no good you +wastin' your time danglin' around after her an' sighin'—now is it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, Mrs. Trapes, I think I'll speak to her to-night—"</p> + +<p>"My land! ain't I jest been tryin' to show you as you ain't a fit or +worthy party to speak, an' as you won't have a chance if you do speak, +her 'eart bein' set on wealth? But you can't speak—you won't speak—I +know you won't!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"First, because t' night she's away at Englewood makin' a dress for Mrs. +Crawley as is very fond of her. An' second, because you ain't the man to +ask a girl to marry him when he ain't got nothin' t' keep her on—you +know you ain't!"</p> + +<p>"Which brings us back to the undoubted fact that I must get a job—at +once."</p> + +<p>"Hm!" said, Mrs. Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful +figure with approval, "what could y' do?"</p> + +<p>"Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you +suggest?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers' +assistants makes good money—an' I know Mr. Smith wants a butterman."</p> + +<p>"Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter butter about—"</p> + +<p>"Are ye used to butter?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've a decided taste for it!"</p> + +<p>"Know much about it?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly—it is a yellowish, fatty substance concocted by human agency +supposedly from the lacteous secretion of the graminivorous quadruped +familiarly known as the common (or garden) cow."</p> + +<p>"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, drawing a deep breath, "you sure do know +something about it. Ever worked in it before?"</p> + +<p>"Only with my teeth."</p> + +<p>"Oh—quit your jollying, Mr. Geoffrey, if you want me t' help you!"</p> + +<p>"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, there's Jacob Pffeffenfifer wants a young man in his +delicatessen store."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, I can slice ham and beef with any one on earth."</p> + +<p>"D' ye understand picklin' and seasonin'?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, there you have me again; I fear I don't."</p> + +<p>"Then you ain't no good to Jacob Pffeffenfifer!"</p> + +<p>"On second thoughts, I'm not wholly sorry," answered Ravenslee gravely. +"You see, a name like that would worry me, it would shake my nerve; I +might cut beef instead of ham, or ham instead of—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows.</p> + +<p>"Sober as a judge, Mrs. Trapes and—by Jupiter!"</p> + +<p>"My land! What is it?"</p> + +<p>"An idea—look!" and Ravenslee pointed down into the yard.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's only Tony!" said Mrs. Trapes, glancing down a vista of +riotous garments.</p> + +<p>"Precisely," answered Ravenslee, rising and stretching his long arms, +"Tony has solved my difficulty; I'll go into the peanut trade."</p> + +<p>"What? Sell peanuts? You?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? 'Man is born—' you know."</p> + +<p>"But—my land! Only dagos and guinneys sells peanuts!"</p> + +<p>"Splendid! I shall be the exception, Mrs. Trapes. Anyway, a peanut man +I'll be!" And catching up his disreputable hat, Ravenslee nodded and +left his landlady staring after him and murmuring "well!" at intervals. +Presently she reached for her iron, stone-cold long since, and stood +awhile clutching it in bony fingers and staring at nothing in +particular.</p> + +<p>"He's sure a man, Hermy my dear!" she said at last, nodding at the +stuffed parrot in the corner. "I've watched him careful and I know. And +there's some things better than money, my dear—ah, much better! So if I +should help to bring you into his arms—man an' wife, my dear—why, I +guess it would be the best thing Anne Angelina Trapes ever done—yes, +mam!" Saying which, she went back to her ironing.</p> + +<p>On the stairs Ravenslee met Spike, who hailed him joyously.</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff, I'm all alone to-night; come an' eat supper with me—how +about it?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose you have supper at Mrs. Trapes' with me?"</p> + +<p>"No, she gets on me nerves—so come on over, will you?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure."</p> + +<p>"'N' say, I'm a few chips shy on butter, Geoff—bring in ten cents' +worth, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Right, O comrade, I'll be with you anon. Make boil the kettle against +my coming," and Ravenslee hastened down the stairs. Reaching the court +he met the Italian trundling his barrow toward a certain shed, its usual +nocturnal biding place.</p> + +<p>"How goes it, Tony?" he enquired, shaking hands.</p> + +<p>The Italian nodded and flashed his teeth. "Ver-a good, pal!" he +answered.</p> + +<p>"Tony, where can I get a peanut outfit like yours?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! You go-a in-a da peanut-a beezneez, hey? You want-a push-a de cart, +hey?"</p> + +<p>"That's it, Tony."</p> + +<p>"Ver-a good!" nodded the good-natured Italian. "You come-a long-a me, +pal. I take-a you get-a push-a-de-cart, up-a de street, yes?" Having +very soon locked away his barrow, the loquacious Tony led Ravenslee +along certain streets and into a certain yard, where presently appeared +a stout man with rings in his ears, who smiled and nodded and greeted +them with up-flung finger and the word "altro." Presently Ravenslee +found himself examining a highly ornate barrow fitted with stove and +outfit complete, even unto the whistle, and mounted upon a pair of the +rosiest wheels he had ever seen. Thereafter were more smiles and nods, +accompanied by the ever recurrent "altro", the transfer of certain bills +into the stout man's pocket, and Geoffrey Ravenslee sallied forth into +the street, bound for Mulligan's, with the chattering Tony beside him +and the gaily-painted barrow before him, receiving many friendly hints +as to the pitfalls and intricacies of the peanut trade and hearkening +with unflagging interest to the story of "lil Pietro" and the unbounded +goodness of "da Signorina Hermione."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>ANTAGONISM IS BORN AND WAR DECLARED</h3> + + +<p>"Why—hello, Hermy!" exclaimed Spike, pausing in the doorway. "Gee, I +thought you was—were in Englewood."</p> + +<p>Hermione lifted her golden head, stayed her humming sewing-machine, and +smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"And I thought I'd come home and surprise you. Aren't you glad to see +me, boy dear?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sure I am!" he answered, and stooping, kissed a golden curl that +wantoned at her white temple; which done, he sprawled in the easy-chair +and taking a newspaper from his pocket, fell to studying the latest +baseball scores while Hermione, head bent above her work again, glanced +at him now and then rather wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Gee whiz," he exclaimed suddenly, "the Giants put it all over +Cincinnati to-day, Hermy. Y' see, Matty was in th' box, an' he sure +pitched some game!"</p> + +<p>Hermione stopped her machine and looked at him under wrinkling brows.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were hunting through the 'wanted' columns, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"Why, y' see I ain't—haven't got to the ads yet, Hermy."</p> + +<p>Hermione sighed softly and, resting her round chin in her hands, viewed +him silently awhile until, becoming aware of the steadfast gaze of those +sweet and gentle eyes, Spike shuffled uneasily and changed colour.</p> + +<p>"Arthur," she said softly, "when you promised me to try and find a +situation you meant it, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I did!"</p> + +<p>"That was a week ago, dear."</p> + +<p>"But, Hermy, I went after that office-boy's job—you know I did!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, though you got there too late."</p> + +<p>"No, I wasn't late, Hermy, only another guy happened t' get there +first—an' got the job! A kid I could have licked with one hand, too. +One of these mommer's pets in a nobby sack suit—all dolled up in a +clean collar an' a bow-tie an' grey kid gloves. I guess his outfit +helped him a whole lot—an' y' see I'm a few chips shy on clothes, I +guess."</p> + +<p>Hermione looked at her brother's worn garments, shiny at elbow and knee, +and as she looked, her eyes were suddenly suffused.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I—I'm afraid they are—rather shabby," she admitted humbly. +"Your clothes always did seem to wear out so very quickly! And—and it +costs so much to live! And—sometimes I grow—afraid—"</p> + +<p>The smooth, low voice faltered and ended upon a sob. Spike stared in +wide-eyed amaze, for seldom had he seen his sister thus, but now, +beholding the droop of that brave head, seeing how her strong white +hands gripped each other, he tossed the paper aside, and flinging +himself on his knees clasped her in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Hermy!" he pleaded. "Oh, don't cry, I—I can't bear it. You +know I love you best in the world—ah, don't cry, dear. I—I'll hunt up +a job first thing—honest I will—"</p> + +<p>"But your clothes are so very shabby!" she sobbed, "and oh, boy dear, +I have only just enough to—pay our rent this month—so I can't get you +any more—yet, dear!"</p> + +<p>"Hermy," said he brokenly, "oh, Hermy, you make me feel so mean +I—I—One sure thing you're never goin' t' spend your money on clothes +for me any more—? the money you work so hard for! Never any more, +Hermy dear. You've done enough for me, I guess, an' now it's up t' me +to help you and—and—oh, Gee!" Here Spike's voice broke altogether, +whereupon Hermione, quite forgetting her own sorrows and worries, fell +to soothing and comforting him as she had done many and many a time +during his motherless childhood.</p> + +<p>"Say, Hermy," said he at last, his tear-stained cheek pillowed on her +soft, round bosom, "you won't think me a—an awful kid for—for cryin', +will you?"</p> + +<p>"I think I love you all the better, boy dear, and—I'm sure it has done +us both good," and, smiling down at him through her tears, she kissed +him.</p> + +<p>"I'll start in an' rustle up a job right away, Hermy!" said he, rising +and nodding grimly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, boy," said she, looking up at him fondly, "I shall be so proud of +you. It wouldn't matter what it was, or how little you got at first, so +long as it was decent and honourable. And I'm sure you'll get on—Mr. +Geoffrey thinks so too."</p> + +<p>"Does he? I'm glad o' that. Say, how d'ye like Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—well, I've only seen him two or three times," said Hermione, +folding away her work preparatory to cooking supper.</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" said Spike, smoothing out the paper and scowling at the +long columns headed "Help Wanted."</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, I think so."</p> + +<p>"But you an' him 's always meetin' on the stairs, ain't—aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"You should say 'he and you', dear."</p> + +<p>"Well—but aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"We have met—once or twice."</p> + +<p>"D'ye like him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he's so very—different! And rather lazy! And awfully sleepy! And +yet I don't think he's sleepy really, somehow."</p> + +<p>"Sleepy?" exclaimed Spike. "Well, I guess not! Lazy I dunno, but he +sure is all to the wide-awake-o. When he looks sleepiest, I guess he's +widest-awakest. And he ain't a—isn't a bad looker, is he?"</p> + +<p>"He has nice eyes!" Hermione admitted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mean his eyes!" quoth Spike disgustedly. "I mean his arms +an' legs an' shoulders."</p> + +<p>"They are nice and wide!" nodded Hermione.</p> + +<p>"I should like t' see Geoff in th' ring. He'd strip big!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, really," said Hermione, taking a very large apron from the table +drawer. "Boy, dear, I do wish you weren't always thinking of fighting."</p> + +<p>"All right, Hermy dear. But there ain't no flies on Geoff—'n' say, I +want yer to like him 'cause I kinder think he's all to the cream-puffs +an'—"</p> + +<p>"Arthur!" cried Hermione, lifting an admonishing finger.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry; my tongue kinder slipped, Hermy. But I have been trying t' +keep tabs on me talk, honest I have."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. You haven't been quite so frightful lately."</p> + +<p>"Y' see, Hermy, you're different; you went to a swell school an'—"</p> + +<p>"And you never did—I know, dear. But oh, Arthur, I did the best I +could."</p> + +<p>"And a lot better than I deserved," said he, reaching out to pat her +hand caressingly. "When I get a good job, I'll stay in nights and study +hard like you want me to—I sure will."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, and you'll soon be heaps cleverer than I am," said she, +stooping to kiss his curly head as she tied the apron about her shapely +hips; and then, giving him a smiling nod, she vanished into the kitchen, +while Spike laboured through the long columns headed "Help Wanted." And +presently, as she moved light-footed to and fro in the kitchen, he heard +her singing softly to herself, an old, old song of other days that had +often been his lullaby when he was a small, motherless armful of +sleepiness hushed in her young, protecting clasp.</p> + +<p>"Arthur!" she called.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he answered.</p> + +<p>"Are you hungry?"</p> + +<p>"You bet I am!"</p> + +<p>A long pause, whereafter ensued the following conversation between +kitchen and parlour:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Boy dear!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Hello!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Be a dear and lay the cloth for me!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Right-o!"</p> + +<p>A longer pause, during which Spike rises and takes cloth from sideboard +drawer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Arthur!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Yes?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Where did you meet him?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span> (starting). "Who?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Mr. Geoffrey. How did you happen to meet each other?"</p> + +<p>Another pause, while Spike stands frowning in perplexed thought.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "Where did you say the cloth was?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "In the sideboard drawer. How long have you known +him?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span> (beginning to lay the cloth feverishly). "Oh, a goodish +time. Say, Hermy, he sure likes your name a whole lot!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Oh!" (A very small pause.) "Likes my name, does he?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "He sure does. He told me so."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>. "Oh!" (Another small pause.) "Just what did he say, +boy dear?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spike</span>. "He said it was Greek an' very beautiful, an' then I said +it kind of fitted you because you were aces up on the face an' figure +question."</p> + +<p>A rush of petticoats, and enter Hermione, flushed and laughing.</p> + +<p>"You dear boy!" she cried, "for that you shall be kissed!" which he was +forthwith; after which she turned to the mirror to smooth back a +shining tress of hair—that same rebellious curl that glistened above +her fine, black eyebrow.</p> + +<p>"Where did you say you first met him—Mr. Geoffrey?" she enquired +suddenly, still busied with the rebellious curl. Spike started, and +glanced uneasily at her shapely back.</p> + +<p>"Say, Hermy," said he, a little huskily, "have you got anything for +supper?"</p> + +<p>"Not much, dear, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"That's a pity!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, because I asked him in to supper."</p> + +<p>"You asked Mr. Geoffrey—here?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Surest thing you know. Y' see, I thought you was staying over at +Englewood."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur!" she sighed. "And there are only two wretched little chops! +And not a bit of butter! And the rent's due to-morrow—I can't spare a +cent—and me in this shabby old gown! and you broke the best teapot."</p> + +<p>"Sounds kind of gay an' festive!" sighed Spike ruefully. "But don't +worry about the eats, dear. Geoff won't mind, an' he'll never notice +your old gown—"</p> + +<p>"He seems to notice a great deal," said Hermione doubtfully as she +hastily untied the big apron, "and besides—oh, gracious goodness!" +she cried, as a knock sounded at the front door, "you must let him in, +Arthur—and don't let him know I'm changing my gown!" Saying which, she +vanished into her bedroom while Spike hastened to the door.</p> + +<p>"Why—hello, Tony!" he exclaimed, "what's wrong now?"</p> + +<p>"My lil Pietro," cried the Italian excitedly, "he no sleep—he burn-a +burn-a all-a da time,—all-a da time cry! You tell-a you sis—she come-a +like-a da las' time den he no cry-a—" But here Tony broke off to +flourish his hat and bow gracefully as he caught sight of Hermione +herself. "Ah, Signorina!" he cried, "my lil Pietro he seeck. You +please-a come see my lil Pietro? He flush-a he cry—he all-a da fire! he +burn-a, burn-a, like-a da fire! You so good, so generosa—you come see +my lil Pietro?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I will!" said Hermione in her calm, soft voice, "poor +little mite—is he feverish?"</p> + +<p>"Si, si Signorina!" answered the anxious young father, "he burn-a, +burn-a all-a da time!"</p> + +<p>"Reach me the aconite, boy dear; yes, that's it."</p> + +<p>"But what about supper, Hermy?" queried Spike wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—finish laying the table; I'll be back as soon as ever I can, +dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gee!" sighed Spike, as their footsteps died away down the stair, +"she sure is keen on knowing how I met Geoff! And if she ever finds +out—" Spike cowered down into a chair and clasping his head between his +hands sat thus a long while, staring moodily at the floor, striving for +a way out of the difficulty. He was yet wrestling with this knotty +problem when he heard muffled knocks at the front door, which, being +opened, disclosed the object of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Why, Geoff," he cried gladly, "I thought you wasn't coming. Say, what +you got there?" he enquired, for Ravenslee's arms were filled with +sundry packages and parcels.</p> + +<p>"Come and see!" said Ravenslee mysteriously. "Catch this one before I +drop it!"</p> + +<p>"Why—hello," said Spike, sniffing at the package in question as he led +the way into the parlour, "it smells good! It sniffs like—Holy Gee, +it's a roast turkey! And—oh, say, Geoff—she's a beaut!"</p> + +<p>"Precisely what Mr. Pffeffenfifer assured me," said Ravenslee, +depositing his other burdens on the table. "Mr. Pffeffenfifer is +a man educated in eats, a food fancier, an artist of the appetite! +Mr. Pffeffenfifer is fat and soulful! Mr. Pffeffenfifer nearly wept +tears over the virtues of that bird—pledged his mortal soul for its +tenderness, vowed by all the gods it had breast enough for twins! Mr. +Pffeffenfifer seemed so passionately attached to that bird that I feared +he meant to keep it to gloat over in selfish secrecy. But no—base coin +seduced him, did the trick and—here it is. Also we have a loaf!" and +from beneath one arm Ravenslee dropped a package that resolved itself +into a Vienna roll. "Also, ham—"</p> + +<p>"Hey, Geoff," said Spike in awe-struck tones, "are all these eats?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I should have brought more if I could have carried 'em."</p> + +<p>"More?"</p> + +<p>"Most decidedly. When I buy eats, my lad, I buy everything in sight that +looks worth while—if Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells. Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells +in such a soulfully seductive way that eats acquire virtues above and +beyond their own base selves. Mr. Pffeffenfifer can infuse soul into a +sausage. Behold now, eats the most alluring. See, what's this! Ah, yes, +here we have, item: Salmi, redolent of garlic! Here again a head cheese, +succulent and savoury; here's ham, most ravishingly pink—and a +Camembert cheese."</p> + +<p>"But, Jiminy Christmas—you bought such a lot of each. Who's goin' t' +eat all these?"</p> + +<p>"We, of course!"</p> + +<p>"But we can't eat 'em all!" sighed Spike.</p> + +<p>"Can't we?" said Ravenslee, beginning to view the quantity of the +numerous viands with dubious eyes. "They do seem rather a lot now I see +'em all together. But I'm ravenous, and if we can't manage 'em, we'll +find some one who can."</p> + +<p>"Y' see, Geoff, I shan't be able t' eat any o' the rest when I'm through +with the turk'!" sighed Spike, a little reproachfully. "My, but I'm +hungry! Strange how hungry cold turkey makes a guy!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said Ravenslee, pitching his hat into a corner, "sit down, +comrade, and 'let mirth with unconfin<i>ed</i> wing'—" Ravenslee yawned.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better wait a bit, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Hermy."</p> + +<p>"Is she—do you mean she's back?" enquired Ravenslee, sitting up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she didn't stay at Englewood; she's down-stairs, doctoring Tony's +kid."</p> + +<p>"But what will she think of all these confounded messes?"</p> + +<p>"Messes!" cried Spike indignantly. "Cheese it, Geoff—look at that +turk'!"</p> + +<p>"But—do you think she'll—mind?" enquired Ravenslee uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Mind?" said Spike, staring. "Not on your life—why should she? Besides, +it's kind o' lucky you happened to blow in with this free lunch; she's a +bit shy on the dollar question this month—an' Mulligan comes t'morrow. +An' oh, say, Geoff—she's dead set on findin' out how I met you an'—an' +where."</p> + +<p>"Very naturally!" murmured Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"An' we must tell her something—but what?"</p> + +<p>"Spike, you've forgotten the mustard! And as for—er—lying to your +sister, let our motto be 'sufficient unto the day.' Our present need +is mustard, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Say, this sure is goin' t' be some supper, Geoff!" said Spike, setting +on the mustard and gazing at the array of edibles with shining eyes. +"Gee, I could eat cold turkey all night!"</p> + +<p>"Have we everything ready, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Except butter, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Ha! the one thing I forgot, of course! Cut off and get some like the +good fellow you are!" and Ravenslee flicked a bill into Spike's hand, +who, seizing his cap, promptly vanished. Being alone, Ravenslee crossed +to the sideboard, and taking thence a certain photograph, seated himself +in the easy-chair and fell to studying it with deep and grave attention. +And sitting thus, he let fancy run riot—and fancy was singularly +pleasing to judge by the glow in his eyes and the tender smile that +curved his lip.</p> + +<p>He was lost deep within his dreams when he was aware of a loud knock +upon the outer door which Spike had left unlatched and, replacing the +photograph, he rose.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" said he. A heavy step sounded in the little hall, the door +was pushed open, and a man entered. He was a young man, big and +broad-shouldered, and Ravenslee's keen eyes were quick to heed the +length and ponderous carriage of the arms, the girth of chest, and firm, +heavy poise of the feet; lastly he looked at the face, aggressively +handsome with its dominating nose and chin, and blue eyes shaded by +thick lashes, that looked out beneath heavy brows—a comely-seeming face +from the dark, close-cropped hair to the deep cleft in the strong, +fleshy chin.</p> + +<p>But now, beneath Ravenslee's persistent regard, the full-curved, shapely +lips grew slowly into a cruel, down-trending line, the nostrils +expanded, while the blue eyes narrowed to shining slits beneath +quick-scowling, black brows. For a long moment the two men stared at +each other, eye to eye, then, in a hoarse, assertive tone the newcomer +spoke.</p> + +<p>"What you doin' here? Who are ye?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee sat down and began to fill his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Where's d' Kid?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee brushed stray grains of tobacco from his knee with +elaborate care.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you! Where's Spike—'n' what you doin' here, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee glanced up casually. "And pray, who the devil may you be +pleased to be?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Me name's M'Ginnis!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—indeed! Bud M'Ginnis—Is that good 'nuff for ye?"</p> + +<p>"Well, since you ask," said Ravenslee, shaking languid head, "I should +scarcely class you as a 'bud' myself. No—I should say you were perhaps +just a trifle—er—overblown. But have it your own way!" and Mr. +Ravenslee smiled engagingly.</p> + +<p>"Where's Spike?" demanded M'Ginnis, his tone a little gruffer, "and +say—you can cut out the comedy, see? Nix on the funny business."</p> + +<p>"You are a pessimist, I presume, Mr. Flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Where's d' Kid? Speak up now—where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Also, your conversation grows a little monotonous, Mr. Flowers."</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis stared, then shot out his big chin viciously.</p> + +<p>"What you doin' in Hermy's flat, eh?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee's brows wrinkled slightly, but his soft voice grew softer, +as, pausing in the act of lighting his pipe, he answered: "On the whole +I think you are a rather—er—unpleasant young man, so suppose +you—er—go—"</p> + +<p>"What? Go? Are ye tryin' t' tell me t' go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm suggesting that you—er—crank up the machine, Mr. Flowers, and +beat it while the going's good!"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis clenched his fist and took a threatening step toward Ravenslee, +then checked himself and stood breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>"May I further suggest," said Ravenslee in his pleasantest voice, "that +you look in again—say next Thursday fortnight, Mr. Flowers?"</p> + +<p>"T' hell with you—me name's M'Ginnis."</p> + +<p>"Of course you might leave a message, Mr. Flowers—"</p> + +<p>"Now, see here, you!" said M'Ginnis, his words coming thick with +passion. "I wanter know, first, where Spike is. And then I wanter know +who you are. And then I wanter know what you're after in Hermy +Chesterton's flat—and you're sure goin' t' tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Am I?"</p> + +<p>"You sure are!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee opened the matchbox. "Seems a pity to shake a confidence +so sublime," he sighed. "And yet—"</p> + +<p>"An' see here again! I've known Hermy since we was kids, an' I don't +allow no man t' come stamping around here—see? So you're goin' t' quit, +an' you're goin' t' quit right now!"</p> + +<p>"Do I look like a quitter, Mr. Flowers?"</p> + +<p>Now beholding the speaker's lazy assurance of pose, the contemptuous +indifference of his general air, M'Ginnis stood speechless a moment, his +clenched fists quivering, while, above the loosely-tied scarf, his +powerful neck seemed to swell and show knotted cords that writhed and +twisted, and when at last he spoke, his words came in a panting rush.</p> + +<p>"This is Hermy's flat, an' I guess—you think you're safe here—but you +ain't! I'm thinkin' out which'll do th' least harm to her furniture—to +lick ye here or drag you out on to the landin' first!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravenslee lounged lower in the armchair and yawned behind the box of +matches. And in that moment, like a maddened animal, M'Ginnis leapt upon +him and, striking no blow, seized and shook Ravenslee in powerful, +frantic hands, while from between his lips, curled back from big, white +teeth, came a continuous, vicious, hissing sound.</p> + +<p>"I'll wake ye up!" he panted. "Come out—come out, I say—oh, I'll wake +ye up when I get ye outside, I guess. Come out! What you doin' in +Hermy's flat? By God! I'll choke ye till you tell me!" and his hands +came upon Ravenslee's throat—came to be met there by two other hands +that, closing upon his wrists, wrenched and twisted viciously in +opposite directions and, loosing his hold, M'Ginnis fell back, staring +down at bruised and lacerated skin where oozed a few slow drops of +blood.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Ravenslee, rising, "after you, Mr. Flowers! Let us by +all means step outside, where we will each earnestly endeavour to pitch +the other down-stairs—personally, I shall do my very damnedest, for +really I don't—no, I do not like you, Mr. Flowers; you need some one +to tread on you a little. Step outside and let <i>me</i> try."</p> + +<p>While M'Ginnis stared from his swelling, bloody wrists to Ravenslee's +face—a face quite as fierce and determined as his own—steps were heard +and Spike's voice called:</p> + +<p>"Hermy come in yet, Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet—but our friend Mr. Flowers has dropped in—socially, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Who?" enquired Spike at the door, but beholding M'Ginnis's angry +face, he paused there, staring aghast. "Why—hello, Bud!" said he +nervously. "What's wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' much—yet, Kid, only it's kinder lucky for this guy as you +happened in. Who is he? What's he doin' here?"</p> + +<p>"He's only a friend o' mine, Bud, an' he's all right, 'n' say—"</p> + +<p>"Tell him t' beat it."</p> + +<p>"But y'see, Bud—"</p> + +<p>"Tell him as we don't want his kind around here or—"</p> + +<p>"Spike, did you bring in the butter?" enquired Ravenslee, serenely +unconscious of M'Ginnis.</p> + +<p>"Yes, here it is, Geoff—but say—"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't feel much," said Ravenslee, weighing the package in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"It's half a pound. But say, here's Bud; he says you're to—"</p> + +<p>"My, Spike, I'll trouble you for the butter-dish—thanks!" and turning +away, Ravenslee busied himself at the table, whistling softly the while.</p> + +<p>"But, Geoff, this is Bud!" cried the lad, glancing from one to the other +in an agony of suspense. "Oh, don' ye know dis is Bud M'Ginnis?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, still here, is he?" said Ravenslee, without looking round.</p> + +<p>"See here, Kid," growled M'Ginnis, "you tell your—friend t' clear +out an' t' do it real quick, see? You tell him if he ain't out in two +minutes, I'll run him out meself—"</p> + +<p>"Spike, this butter is nearly oil."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff," groaned the boy, "you've got t' go—here's Bud—"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, Spike, tell him to—er—chase himself; I'm busy!" Came the +sound of a chair set roughly aside and a shrill cry from Spike: "My God, +Bud—don't! Look out, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>But, as M'Ginnis came, Ravenslee turned swiftly, ducked the expected +blow, and swinging his fist up beneath his assailant's extended arm, +smote him hard and true upon the elbow; and Spike, pale and wide of eye, +saw that arm fall and dangle helplessly at M'Ginnis' side, while his +face was contorted with sharp agony.</p> + +<p>"My God, Geoff! What you done t' him?"</p> + +<p>"Pins and needles, Spike—that's all. A hoary old trick, but useful now +and then. Mr. Flowers isn't so very wide-awake as folks seem to think. +You see, it wouldn't have done to knock him out here; he might have +upset the table."</p> + +<p>"Knock out Bud!" cried Spike, aghast. "But there ain't nobody can lick +Bud M'Ginnis!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know, Spike. Anyway, we'll see what can be done—outside! +After you, Mr. Flowers! Pray go first, Mr. Flowers! A fellow who would +attack a man sitting down isn't to be trusted behind one—so, after you, +Mr. Flowers. Oh, we'll wait until you can use your arm, but we'll wait +outside. Miss Chesterton's flat is no place for your sort, so—out with +you, and quick—d'ye hear?"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis opened his lips to retort, but passion choked him, and snarling +unintelligibly, he turned and strode out upon the landing. As they stood +fronting each other, very silent and grim and menacing, running feet +were heard ascending the stairs, and a slender boy appeared, who, +perceiving M'Ginnis, panted out:</p> + +<p>"Say, Bud, O'Rourke's been pinched by d' cops! He wants ye t' skin over +an' fix it up—"</p> + +<p>"O'Rourke pinched?" growled M'Ginnis. "Say you, Larry, what yer givin' +me?"</p> + +<p>"S' right, Bud, dere's a noo captain on d' precinct, an' he's pinched +O'Rourke. 'N' say, Bud, d' game's all balled up; d' push is all up in d' +air. 'N' say, O'Rourke's crazy an' can't do nothin', so he sent me t' +fetch ye. You're d' only one as can fix d' police, so come on right now +before d' whole show's busted up." During this breathless speech the +narrowed eyes of M'Ginnis never left Ravenslee's pale, placid face, and +in the persistence of this ferocious glare was something animal-like.</p> + +<p>"Say, you—Mr. Butt-in!" said he, "I ain't through wid you—not by a +whole lot I ain't. Oh, I'll get ye yet, an' I'll get ye good! There +won't be nothin' left for nobody else when I'm through wid you. Savvy +this—there ain't nobody ever goin' t' queer me with Hermy Chesterton. +Oh, I'll get ye good, an' I'll get ye—soon!"</p> + +<p>So saying, Bud M'Ginnis turned, and went slowly and unwillingly down the +stair.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but I'm glad he's gone!" said Spike, as he closed the door. "Gee, +but I'm—glad!" and he drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"So am I!" said Ravenslee, sinking into the armchair, "but there's +always to-morrow, isn't there?"</p> + +<p>But instead of replying, Spike stood to stare on Ravenslee with eyes of +admiring awe.</p> + +<p>"I guess you know how t' handle y' self, Geoff," said he.</p> + +<p>"I used to think I could, once upon a time," answered Ravenslee, +stooping to recover his pipe.</p> + +<p>"That sure was some wallop you handed him!"</p> + +<p>"'T was fair, I thank you, comrade!"</p> + +<p>"I shall be awful sorry to have you leave me, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Leave you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you heard what he said?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I heard."</p> + +<p>"An' you know what he meant?"</p> + +<p>"I can guess."</p> + +<p>"You'd best skin out o' Mulligan's first thing to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Bud says you must, an' he'll make you, worse luck!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Spike in low, troubled tones, "he'll sic d' gang on to you +if you don't make your get-away while you can—"</p> + +<p>"By God!" exclaimed Ravenslee, his eyes suddenly very bright, "I never +thought of that!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, so I'm thinking you'd best skin off t'night, Geoff!" sighed the +lad gloomily, whereupon Ravenslee, pocketing his pipe, clapped him +joyously upon the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Banish that dejection, my comrade," said he, "for now, my Arthur-Spike, +'now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer in this brutal +Bud' and—"</p> + +<p>"What yer mean, Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that life's erstwhile dull monotony is like to be forgotten +quite in the vigorous, exhilarating air of Hell's Kitchen. Hell's +Kitchen suits me admirably, consequently in Hell's Kitchen I'll stay."</p> + +<p>"Stay? Geoff, are ye crazy? What about Bud M'Ginnis?"</p> + +<p>"M'Ginnis, my Arthur? Oh, Bud M'Ginnis may be—hush! Straighten the +cloth yonder, Spike; she's coming at last, by Heaven!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>CONTAINING SOME DESCRIPTION OF A SUPPER PARTY</h3> + + +<p>"Oh!" said Hermione, as she caught sight of Ravenslee's tall figure, +"you've come then, Mr. Geoffrey? I've been hoping and praying you +wouldn't! I mean—" she added hastily, in answer to his look, "I mean +I have only two miserable little chops for supper."</p> + +<p>"S' all right, Hermy!" cried Spike. "I told you not to worry about the +eats. Look what's here—stand out o' the light, Geoff, so she can see +the table!"</p> + +<p>"Why—why—what's all this?" she exclaimed, staring at the numerous +well-filled dishes with blue eyes very wide. "Oh, goodness +gracious—me!" and she turned to look at Mr. Ravenslee, who, meeting +that wondering glance, actually found himself stammering again.</p> + +<p>"The fact is, Miss Hermione—er—I say the fact is we—Arthur and I—are +giving a little supper to-night in honour of—of—er—my birthday."</p> + +<p>"You bet we are, Hermy!" added Spike. "Will you pipe the turk'?"</p> + +<p>"We have been waiting for you," continued Ravenslee, placing a chair for +her, "you see—er—you are to be our guest of honour—if you will?"</p> + +<p>"Sure you are!" nodded Spike, "and I'm head-waiter, eater-in-chief t' +the turk' while she lasts, an' chief mourner when she's gone—so now +I'll go an' make th' tea, only don't begin without me—a fair start an' +all together, see?" and he vanished into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"But—a whole turkey!" said Hermione, viewing it with feminine, +knowledgeful eyes, "and then all this ham and tongue and—Mr. Geoffrey, +how extravagant of you!" And she shook her shapely head at him +reprovingly but with a smile curving her red lips; and lo! there was the +shining curl above her eyebrow again, more wantonly alluring than usual. +"Whatever made you buy so much?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Pffeffenfifer!" answered Ravenslee, staring at the radiant curl, +whereupon she, becoming aware of it, would have sent it into immediate +retirement among its many fellows but that he stayed her humbly.</p> + +<p>"Please don't!" he said.</p> + +<p>"But it—tickles!"</p> + +<p>"Well, let it!"</p> + +<p>"But—why should I?"</p> + +<p>"For—Arthur's sake."</p> + +<p>"Arthur's!" she laughed. "Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, as if he would ever notice!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, for the—er—turkey's sake!"</p> + +<p>"The turkey!" she laughed. "I'm afraid I'm dreadfully untidy to sit down +at such a luxurious feast."</p> + +<p>"Are you?"</p> + +<p>"Well—am I not? Look at this poor old gown!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I didn't notice your—er—gown."</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you, Hermy?" said Spike, entering with the teapot. +"Geoff ain't—I mean, isn't—that kind o' guy—I mean mutt—no, I mean +feller. Y' see, Geoff, a girl always thinks a feller's got his lamps—I +mean eyes—on their rags—clo'es, I mean. 'S' funny, ain't it? Gee, but +I'm hungry!"</p> + +<p>"So am I!" said Hermione.</p> + +<p>"So am I!" said Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Why, then," quoth Spike, "I'll tell you what—let's all sit down and +eat! I guess I'm full o' brilliant ideas t'night, but this ain't no time +for talk—not with that turkey starin' us in the face, it ain't—isn't, +I mean. So quit chewin' d' rag an' let's chew d' turk' instead—an' Gee, +but that's some brilliant too, I guess!"</p> + +<p>So down they sat, and while Hermione presided over the cups and saucers, +Ravenslee carved.</p> + +<p>"Light or dark meat, Miss Hermione?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Herm; likes th' light, but a drumstick for mine—an' please don't +forget th' stuffin', Geoff!"</p> + +<p>"Tea, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" he answered, pausing to watch the curve of her shapely neck as +she bent to pour the tea, and to note how her white hand grasped the +battered teapot, little finger delicately poised.</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff—get busy!" said Spike wistfully. "I know the teapot's a bit +off on looks, but I broke the best one and—"</p> + +<p>"I didn't even notice the teapot, Spike," said Ravenslee, meeting +Hermione's quick, upward glance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cheese it, Geoff, here you've sat with your fork in th' turk' an' +your knife in th' air, starin' at that teapot a whole minute."</p> + +<p>"No, Spike, no! I was only thinking that tea never tastes quite right +unless poured out by a woman's hand—and the fairer the hand the better +the tea!"</p> + +<p>"Which means—just what, Mr. Geoffrey?" laughed Hermione.</p> + +<p>"Why, that Spike and I are about to drink the most delicious tea in the +world, of course."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather be eatin' that turk' when you've sawed me off a leg," sighed +Spike. "I say—when you have!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, to be sure!" said Ravenslee, turning his attention to his carving +again, while Hermione bowed her golden head above the teacups.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but she cuts tender!" quoth Spike; "that bird sure has the Indian +sign on me!"</p> + +<p>"Sugar, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Two lumps, please."</p> + +<p>"Milk, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you!"</p> + +<p>"Geoff," said Spike wearily, "I cracked that milk jug last night, but +you don't have to sit starin' at it that way, an' me dyin' of hunger by +inches!"</p> + +<p>"My humble apologies!" said Ravenslee, wresting his gaze from a certain +curl and fixing it upon the turkey again. "I'm a little—er—distracted +to-night, it seems."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gee!" said Spike in a hopeless tone, "now Hermy's gone an' filled +my cup with milk."</p> + +<p>"Why, boy dear, so I have!" she confessed, with a rueful laugh, and her +cheeks were very pink as she rectified her mistake.</p> + +<p>"Are you distracted too, then?" demanded Spike.</p> + +<p>"No, I—I don't think so—no, no—of course I'm not! I—I was +just—thinking, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"Not about tea, I reckon! Say, what's gettin' you two, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Arthur," said she serenely, as she passed his tea, "please fetch some +more hot water."</p> + +<p>Spike sighed, rose, and taking the jug, went upon his mission.</p> + +<p>"And how do you like Mulligan's, Mr. Geoffrey?" enquired Hermione, +regarding him with her calm, level eyes.</p> + +<p>"Very much," he answered, "I like it better and better. I think—no, I'm +sure I would rather be in Mulligan's than anywhere else in the world."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Why?"</p> + +<p>Down went carving knife and fork, and leaning toward her he answered: +"Because in Mulligan's, among many other wonders, I have found something +more beautiful and far more wonderful than I ever dreamed of finding."</p> + +<p>"In Mulligan's?" she asked, looking her amazement.</p> + +<p>"In Mulligan's," he answered gravely. Now here, all at once, her glance +wavered and sank before his.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" she enquired, staring into her cup.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—no!" she murmured hastily and a little breathlessly, as Spike +reentered, and paused, jug in hand, to stare.</p> + +<p>"What—haven't you served Hermy—yet?" he enquired in an injured tone.</p> + +<p>"Certainly I have," answered Ravenslee, "here it is, you see—all +ready!"</p> + +<p>"Only you forgot t' hand it t' her, and she forgot t' take it. Well, +say—for hungry folks you two are the limit!"</p> + +<p>"'Man doth not live by bread alone,' boy; we were talking," said +Ravenslee, handing Hermione her plate.</p> + +<p>"You said you liked milk and sugar, didn't you, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Holy Gee!" murmured Spike.</p> + +<p>"Milk and sugar, thank you," said Ravenslee, heedful of her deepened +colour.</p> + +<p>"Geoff," enquired Spike gently, "if I was to hang on to that drumstick, +d' ye suppose you might be able to hack it off for me—some day?"</p> + +<p>"My Arthur," said Ravenslee, plying knife and fork energetically, "'tis +done—behold it!"</p> + +<p>"But surely," said Hermione, glancing up suddenly, "surely you +don't—like Mulligan's, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Like it, Miss Hermione? I—abominate it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff," mourned Spike, "don't I get any stuffin' after all?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, I've been wondering how you and Arthur met—and where, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Gee, Hermy!" Spike exclaimed, "you sure do talk! If you go on asking +poor old Geoff s' many questions, he'll forget t' serve himself this +week. Look at his plate!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, do serve yourself, please, and—oh, my gracious! +I've forgotten to give you your tea; I'm so sorry!"</p> + +<p>Here Spike, having once again staved off the inevitable explanation, +grew hilarious, and they laughed and talked the while they ate and drank +with youthful, healthy appetites. And what a supper that was! What +tongue could tell the gaiety and utter content that possessed them all +three? What pen describe all Hermione's glowing beauty, or how her blue +eyes, meeting eyes of grey would, for no perceptible reason, grow +sweetly troubled, waver in their glance, and veil themselves beneath +sudden, down-drooping lashes? What mere words could ever describe all +the subtle, elusive witchery of her?</p> + +<p>And Spike—ate, of course, in a blissful silence for the most part and +whole-heartedly, his attention centred exclusively upon his plate; thus +how should he know or care how often, across that diminished turkey, +grey eyes looked into blue? As for Ravenslee, he ate and drank he knew +and cared not what, content to sit and watch her when he might—the +delicious curves of white neck and full, round throat, the easy grace of +movement that spoke her vigorous youth; joying in the soft murmurs of +her voice, the low, sweet ring of her laughter, and thrilling responsive +to her warm young womanhood.</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Geoffrey," she enquired suddenly, "if you hate Mulligan's as +much as I do, whatever made you choose to live here?"</p> + +<p>"A thrice blessed fate," he answered, "I came because—er—"</p> + +<p>"You were a poor, lonely guy," added Spike hastily.</p> + +<p>"Precisely, Spike! Compared to my sordid poverty Lazarus was rich, and +as for the loneliness of my existence the—er—abomination of desolation +was a flowery garden!"</p> + +<p>"And how did you happen to meet Ar—"</p> + +<p>A plate crashed to pieces on the floor, and turning, she beheld Spike +very red and rueful of visage.</p> + +<p>"'Fraid I've bent a plate, Hermy," he explained, and winking desperately +at Ravenslee, he stooped to gather up the fragments.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur, and we have so few—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know—but it's only the old cracked one, Hermy."</p> + +<p>"You've broken an awful lot of things lately, boy dear," she sighed. +"Never mind—get on with your supper, dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm all right, but what about you? Gee, Hermy, you sure do talk!"</p> + +<p>"Do I, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess! You keep on at poor old Geoff so he don't get a chance +for a real proper chew."</p> + +<p>"But then you see," said Ravenslee, "I would much rather talk than +eat—sometimes."</p> + +<p>"But say, Geoff—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Hermione, you were asking how I met—"</p> + +<p>"Hey, Geoff!" said Spike hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"How I met your brother," continued Ravenslee, silencing the boy with a +look. "Miss Hermione, I'll tell you full and freely." Here Spike took a +gulp of tea and choked, also his brow grew clammy, and he stared with +dilating eyes at Ravenslee, who began forthwith:</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time, Miss Hermione, that is to say upon a certain dark +night, a man sat alone, physically and mentally alone, and very wretched +because his life was empty of all achievement—because, having been +blessed with many opportunities, he had never done anything worth while. +And as he sat there, looking back through the wasted years, this +miserable fool was considering, in his wretched folly, the cowardly sin +of self-destruction, because he was sick of the world and all things in +it—especially of his own useless self! But I hope I don't—er—bore +you, do I?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered a little breathlessly, gazing at him with eyes deep +and tender; "go on—please go on!"</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Ravenslee gravely, "Destiny, or Heaven, or the +Almighty, taking pity on this sorry fool, sent to him an angel in the +shape of—your brother."</p> + +<p>"Of—Arthur?" she exclaimed, while Spike's rigid attitude relaxed, and +he drew a sudden, deep breath.</p> + +<p>"Of Arthur!" nodded Ravenslee. "And Arthur lifted him out of the Slough +of Despond and taught him that life might be a useful thing after all, +if he could but find some object to help him—one who might inspire him +to nobler things. And so he came here, hoping to find this object."</p> + +<p>"An object?" she enquired softly.</p> + +<p>"The Definite Object!" he answered, "with capital letters. One who might +make life truly worth while. One who, teaching him to forget himself, +should lift him to better things. An object to live for, work for, and +if necessary to—die for!"</p> + +<p>Here Spike, finding himself utterly forgotten again, sighed in deep and +audible relief, and taking up knife and fork, fell to with renewed +appetite, while Hermione, chin rested on folded hands, gazed into +Ravenslee's grave face.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he will ever—find his Object?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!"</p> + +<p>"You seem very—confident."</p> + +<p>"I am! You see, she's found."</p> + +<p>"She?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes beginning to waver.</p> + +<p>"With a capital S," said he, leaning nearer. "The Woman! And it's right +here that his difficulties begin, because in the first place he is so +humble and she is so proud and—"</p> + +<p>"Proud?" said she, glancing up swiftly.</p> + +<p>"And so very beautiful!" he continued.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said she, and this time she did not look at him.</p> + +<p>"Say," quoth Spike, "I think I could go another drumstick, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"And in the second place, he is so unworthy and she so—"</p> + +<p>"An' a bit more stuflin', Geoff," sighed Spike.</p> + +<p>"Can she—help him?" enquired Hermione, stirring her tea absently.</p> + +<p>"She is the only one who can—help me."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Hermione again, very softly this time, stirring a little +faster; and, conscious of his glance, flushed deliciously and was silent +awhile. As for Spike, he glanced from one rapt face to the other +and—unostentatiously helped himself to more turkey.</p> + +<p>"But," said Hermione at last, "how can—she help?"</p> + +<p>"By constant association," answered Ravenslee, "by affording me the +daily example of her sweet self-forgetfulness and blameless life."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure she is so—very good?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure she is braver and nobler than any woman I have ever known!"</p> + +<p>Once more Spike glanced from the flushed beauty of his sister's +half-averted face to Ravenslee's shining eyes, and boldly helped himself +to more seasoning.</p> + +<p>"Have you known her very long, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Long enough to know she is—the only woman!"</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff," sighed Spike, "I guess old Pffeff was right about this +bird; she kind o' melts—'n' say—she's meltin' fast! If you two don't +stop chewin' d' rag an' get busy you'll be too late for this bird, +because this bird is sure a bird of passage and—Holy Gee!" he broke +off, as a knock sounded on the outer door, "who's this, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Before he could rise, Hermione had vanished into the passage.</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff," he whispered, "how if it's Bud?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee frowned and pushed back his chair, but in that moment they +heard Hermione's glad welcome: "Why, Ann, you dear thing, you're just in +time for the turkey—come right in."</p> + +<p>"Turkey, my dear!" spoke the harsh voice of Mrs. Trapes. "Turkey—land +sakes! But I only jest stepped over t' ask if you'd happened to find +that lodger o' mine anywheres—why, Lord bless me!" she broke off, +halting in the doorway as she beheld Ravenslee. "Lordy Lord, if he ain't +a-settin' there, cool as ever was! If he ain't a-eatin' an' drinkin' an' +me cookin' him at this moment the loveliest mutton chop you ever see! A +mutton chop wiv a kidney, as he ordered most express—Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"Why, to be sure," said Ravenslee, rising. "I forgot all about that +chop, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you order it most express—cut thick—an' wiv a kidney?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Ravenslee penitently.</p> + +<p>"Well—there it is, cooked to a turn, an' nobody t' eat it! An' kidneys +is rose again—kidneys is always risin'. Lord, Mr. Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, Mrs. Trapes, we—that is, I had a birthday not long ago, +and we're celebrating."</p> + +<p>"And so shall you, Ann," said Hermione, "sit down, dear!"</p> + +<p>"An' me in me oldest apron?" said Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows, "my +dear, I couldn't—an' I wouldn't! But, oh! Mr. Geoffrey, what about that +beautiful chop? I might warm it over for your breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid!"</p> + +<p>"Then I must eat it myself, I suppose, though it do seem a shame to +waste such a lovely chop on Ann Angelina Trapes! But, Hermy dear, I just +been down to see Mrs. Bowker, an' her little Hazel's very bad—her poor +little hip again, an' she's coughin' too, somethin' dreadful."</p> + +<p>"Poor little Hazel! Did she ask for me, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, she did, an' Mrs. Bowker did ask if you'd go an' look at +her—but I do hate t' disturb ye, that I do!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all right, Ann. Tell Mrs. Bowker I'll be right down."</p> + +<p>"I will so, but it's a dratted shame as you should shoulder everybody's +troubles, that it is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ann—as though I do! And then how about yourself, dear—what of the +Baxters and the Ryders, and Mrs. Tipping's baby and—"</p> + +<p>"My land!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "that chop'll be a cinder!" and she +hurried away.</p> + +<p>"Poor little Hazel," said Hermione, coming to a small corner cupboard. +"She's such a dear, quaint little person! You must have seen her on the +stairs, Mr. Geoffrey."</p> + +<p>"I see so many on the stairs, Miss Hermione, and they are always small +and generally quaint."</p> + +<p>"Hazel's got a game leg, Geoff," said Spike, "an' she hops around +on a little crutch. She told me yesterday she thought you was—I mean +were—a fairy prince, because you always bow an' tip your lid to her +when she says 'good morning.' So now she waits for you every morning, +Geoff—says it makes her feel like she was a real fairy princess in a +story-book. Sounds kind o' batty to me, though."</p> + +<p>Hermione was standing on tiptoe endeavouring to reach a certain bottle +upon the top shelf where were ranged many others of various shapes and +sizes, when Ravenslee's big hand did it for her; but when she would have +taken it, he shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I should like to go with you, if I may," he said, "to be—er—formally +introduced to the princess."</p> + +<p>"But—" began Hermione, hesitating.</p> + +<p>"Also I could carry the bottle for you."</p> + +<p>"Why, if you will do all that—" she smiled.</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" he answered, and putting the bottle in his pocket, he opened +the door.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Geoff," Spike called after him, "you've forgot to kiss the turkey +good-by!"</p> + +<p>"Why then, you can do it for me, Spike!" he answered, and followed +Hermione out upon the landing.</p> + +<p>Side by side they descended the stair, in the doing of which her soft +shoulder met him once, and once he thrilled to feel her hand touch his +in the shadow, but this hand was hastily withdrawn; also, though the +light was dim, he saw that she was frowning and biting her red underlip.</p> + +<p>"These stairs are rather—narrow, aren't they?" said she, drawing to the +wall.</p> + +<p>"Delightfully!" he answered, drawing to the rail; and so they went down +very silently with the width of the stairs between them.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MAY BE FOUND SOME PARTICULARS OF THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF PERHAPS</h3> + + +<p>Mrs. Bowker was a small woman, worn and faded like her carpets and +curtains and the dress she wore, but, like them, she was very clean and +neat.</p> + +<p>"'T is real good of you to come, Miss Hermy," said this small, faded +woman, and Ravenslee thought her very voice sounded faded, so repressed +and dismally soft was it. "I wouldn't have had the face t' send for you, +Miss Hermy, only Hazel calls an' calls, like she's doin' now—listen!"</p> + +<p>And sure enough from somewhere near by a small voice reached them, +pitifully faint and thin: "Hermy dear, come t' me—oh, Hermy dear!"</p> + +<p>"She allus lays an' calls like that lately when her poor hip's worse 'n +usual," sighed Mrs. Bowker. "And your gentleman friend—would he like t' +see her too?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I should," answered Ravenslee in his soft, pleasant voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Bowker, this is Mr. Geoffrey," said Hermione a trifle +hurriedly, "he came with me to—to—"</p> + +<p>"Be presented to the princess, if she will honour me," he added.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Bowker, looking up at him with a faded smile, "Hazel +told me you had a pretty voice, sir, an' I guess I know what she meant. +She sets out on the stairs when she's well enough an' has often seen +ye."</p> + +<p>"Hermy, dear, come t' me—oh, Hermy dear!" called the little voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, go in, my dear, you know y' way, I guess," sighed Mrs. Bowker, +passing a small, worn hand across her faded eyes. "There's five dozen +more collar-bands I must stitch an' buttonhole t'night—so go your ways, +my dear." So saying, Mrs. Bowker went back to her labour, which was very +hard labour indeed, while Hermione led the way into a tiny room, where, +on a small, neat truckle-bed covered by a faded quilt, a small, pale +child lay fading fast. But at sight of her visitors, two big, brown eyes +grew bigger yet, and her pale, thin little cheeks flushed eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hermy dear!" she cried, clasping frail hands, "oh, Hermy, you've +brought him—you've brought me our fairy prince at last!"</p> + +<p>Now what was there in these childish words to cause Hermione's eyes to +droop so suddenly as she took the bottle from Ravenslee's hand, or her +rounded cheek to flush so painfully as she stooped to meet the child's +eager kiss, or, when she turned away to measure a dose of the medicine, +to be such an unconscionable time over it? Observing all of which, +Ravenslee forthwith saluted the small invalid with a grave bow, battered +hat gracefully flourished.</p> + +<p>"It is truly an honour to meet you, princess!" said he, and lifting the +child's frail little hand, he touched it to his lips. Thereafter, +obeying the mute appeal of that hand, he seated himself upon the narrow +bed, while Hermione, soft-voiced and tender, bent above the invalid, +who, having obediently swallowed her medicine, leaned back on her pillow +and smiled from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"And now," said she, drawing Hermione down at her other side and +snuggling between, "now please let's all tell some more fairy tale; an' +please, you begin, Hermy, just where you had t' leave off last time."</p> + +<p>"Why, I—I'm afraid I've forgotten, dear," said Hermione, bending to +smooth the child's pillow.</p> + +<p>"Forgotten—oh, Hermy! But I 'member quite well; you got where poor +Princess Nobody was climbing the mountain very tired an' sad an' +carrying her heavy pack, an' all at once—along came the Prince an' +took her heavy bundle and said he'd love to carry it for her always if +she'd let him. An' poor Nobody knew he was the real Prince at last—the +Prince she'd dreamed of an' waited for all her life, 'cos he'd got grey +eyes so brave an' true—an' he was so big an' strong an' noble. So he +helped her to the top of the mountain, an' then she thought at last she +could see the beautiful City of Perhaps. That's where you got to—don't +you 'member, Hermy dear?"</p> + +<p>Now why should Hermione's shapely head have drooped and drooped until +at last her face was hidden on the pillow? And why should Geoffrey +Ravenslee reach to touch the child's hair with hand so light and tender?</p> + +<p>"The beautiful City of Perhaps," said he gently, "why, Princess, where +did you learn about that?"</p> + +<p>"From dear Princess Nobody, oh, Prince!"</p> + +<p>"And who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Why, she's Hermy, Prince—and I'm Princess Somebody. And oh, Hermy +dear, you do 'member where you left off now, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember; but I—don't feel like telling fairy stories now, +dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh! are y' sick?" cried the child anxiously, touching Hermione's golden +hair with loving fingers, "is it a headache like my mumsey gets?"</p> + +<p>"N-no, dear, only I—I don't feel like telling any more of our +story—to-night—somehow, dear."</p> + +<p>"Princess," said Ravenslee, "do you know much about the wonderful City +of Perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—an' I dream about it sometimes, Prince—such beautiful dreams!"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," nodded Ravenslee, "because it is the most beautiful +City that ever happened, I guess!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is!" cried the child, "shall I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Please do, Princess."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's all made of crystal an' gold, an' every one's happy there +and never sick—oh, never! An' all the children can have ices an' cream +sodas whenever they want an' lovely doll-carriages with rubber on the +wheels an'—an' everything's just lovely. Of course every one's daddy's +got lots an' heaps an' piles of money, so they never get behind with the +rent an' never have to set up all night stitching an' stitching like +mumsey an' Hermy have to sometimes. An' I'm Princess Somebody, an' +Hermy's Princess Nobody, an' we're on our ways through the valley of +gloom, trying to find the beautiful City of Perhaps—but oh, it's awful +hard to find!" she ended, with a weary little sigh.</p> + +<p>"And yet, Princess, I'm sure we shall find it."</p> + +<p>"We? Oh, are you coming too, Prince?" cried the child joyfully.</p> + +<p>"To be sure I am!" nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Oh, goody, I'm glad—so glad, 'cause I know we shall find it now!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well," answered the child, looking at him with her big, wistful eyes, +"'cause you look like you could find it, somehow. You see, Prince, +you've got grey eyes so brave an' true—an' you're big an' strong an' +could carry me an' Hermy over the thorny places when we get very, very +tired—couldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"I could!" answered Ravenslee almost grimly, "and I—surely will!"</p> + +<p>"When we get there, Prince, I want first—a doll-carriage an' a doll +with lovely blue eyes that wink at you, an' a big box of candy, an' a +new dress for my mumsey, an' no more work, an' I want lots an' lots of +flowers for my daddy 'cause he loves flowers—oh, an' I want my leg t' +be made well. What d' you want, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"Well, dear, I want to—say good-by to my sewing-machine for ever and +ever and ever!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Hermy!" exclaimed the child, "last time you said you wanted some +one who could give you your heart's desire!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that is my heart's desire, little Hazel," said Hermione, rising +and taking up the medicine bottle.</p> + +<p>"An' what do you want, Prince?"</p> + +<p>"I want a great deal," answered Ravenslee, smiling down into the big, +soft eyes. "I want some one who—is my heart's desire now and for ever +and ever. Good night, dear little Princess!"</p> + +<p>"You'll come again, Prince?" she pleaded, holding up her face to be +kissed, "you'll come again soon?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as—Princess Nobody will bring me."</p> + +<p>"Good night, Hermy dear; you'll bring our Prince again soon?"</p> + +<p>"If you wish, dear," said Hermione, stooping to kiss her in turn.</p> + +<p>"Why, Hermy—what makes your cheeks so hot to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Are they?" said Hermione, making pretence to test them with the back of +her hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," nodded the child, "an' they look so red an'—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you believe in fairies, don't you, Princess?" enquired +Ravenslee rather hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Prince, I often see them in my dreams. They just wait till I'm +asleep, an' then they come an' show themselves. Do you ever see any?"</p> + +<p>"Well, your highness, I fancy I have lately, and when fairies are +around, things are sure to happen; wishes get the habit of coming true. +So, little Princess, just go on wishing and dreaming and—watch out!"</p> + +<p>Then Ravenslee turned and followed Hermione out upon the dingy landing; +but as he climbed the stair, there went with him the memory of a little +face, very thin and pale, but radiant and all aglow with rapturous hope. +Silently as they had come they mounted the stairs, until, reaching the +topmost landing, they paused as by mutual consent.</p> + +<p>"Poor little Hazel!" said Hermione very gently, "if only there were real +fairies to spirit her away to where the air is sweet and pure and +flowers grow for little hands to gather—the doctor told me it was her +only chance."</p> + +<p>"Why, then of course she must have her chance!" said Ravenslee with a +sleepy nod.</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Geoffrey—how?"</p> + +<p>"Well—er—the fairies—you said something about fairies spiriting—"</p> + +<p>"The fairies!" said Hermione a little bitterly, "I guess they are too +busy over their own affairs to trouble about a poor, little, sick child; +besides, what fairy could possibly live five minutes in—Mulligan's?"</p> + +<p>"Which leaves us," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "which leaves us the +beautiful City of Perhaps. It is a wonderful thought, that!"</p> + +<p>"But only a thought!" she sighed.</p> + +<p>"Is it? Are you quite sure?"</p> + +<p>"Well, isn't it?" she questioned wistfully.</p> + +<p>"No!" he answered gravely, "the City of Perhaps is very, very real."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Once again their hands touched in the shadow, but this time his fingers +closed upon her hand, the hand that held the medicine bottle, drawing +her nearer in the dimness of that dingy landing.</p> + +<p>"I mean," he answered, "that for every one of us there is a City of +Perhaps waiting to open its gates to our coming, and I am sure we shall +reach it sooner or later, all three of us—the Princess and you and +I—yes, even I, when I have done something worth while. And then, +Hermione, then—nothing shall keep me from—my heart's delight—nothing, +Hermione!" As he ended, she felt an arm about her in the dimness; an arm +fierce and strong that gripped and swept her close—then, as suddenly, +loosed her. For a breathless moment he stood with head bowed in seeming +humility, then, stooping, he crushed her hand, medicine bottle and all, +to lips that burned with anything but humility.</p> + +<p>"Good night, dear Princess Nobody!" he said, and watched her turn away, +nor moved until the door had closed upon her. That night he smoked many +pipes, weaving him fancies of the beautiful City of Perhaps, and dreamed +dreams of what might be, and his eyes glowed bright and wide, and his +mouth grew alternately grim and tender. And, that night, long after he +lay asleep, Hermione's golden head was bowed above her work, but, more +than once she stayed her humming sewing-machine to look at one white +hand with eyes shy and wistful—the hand that had held the medicine +bottle, of course.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>OF A TEXT, A LETTER, AND A SONG</h3> + + +<p>Ravenslee opened his eyes to find his small chamber full of a glory of +sun which poured a flood of radiance across his narrow bed; it brought +out the apoplectic roses on the wall paper and lent a new lustre to the +dim and faded gold frame that contained a fly-blown card whereon was the +legend:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>LOVE ONE ANOTHER</p></div> + +<p>And with his gaze upon this time-honoured text, Ravenslee smiled, and +leaping out of bed proceeded to wash and shave and dress, pausing often +to glance glad-eyed from his open window upon the glory of the new day. +And indeed it was a morning of all-pervading beauty, one such that even +Mulligan's, its dingy bricks and mortar mellowed by the sun, seemed less +unlovely than its wont, and its many windows, catching a sunbeam here +and there, winked and twinkled waggishly.</p> + +<p>So Ravenslee washed and shaved and dressed, glancing now and then from +this transfigured Mulligan's to the fly-blown text upon the wall, and +once he laughed, though not very loudly to be sure, and once he hummed +a song and so fell to soft whistling, all of which was very strange in +Geoffrey Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>The sun, it is true, radiates life and joy; before his beneficence gloom +and depression flee away, and youth and health grow strong to achieve +the impossible; even age and sickness, bathed in his splendour, may +forget awhile their burdens and dream of other days. Truly sunshine is a +thrice blessed thing. And yet, as Ravenslee tied the neckerchief about +his brawny throat, was it by reason of the sun alone that his grey eyes +were so bright and joyous and that he whistled so soft and merrily?</p> + +<p>Having brushed his hair and settled his vivid-hued neckerchief to his +liking, he turned, and stooping over his humble bed, slipped a hand +beneath the tumbled pillow and drew thence a letter; a somewhat crumpled +missive, this, that he had borne about with him all the preceding day +and read and reread at intervals even as he proceeded to do now, as, +standing in the radiant sunbeams, he unfolded a sheet of very ordinary +note paper and slowly scanned these lines written in a bold, flowing +hand:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Mr. Geoffrey</p> + +<p>I find I must be away from home all this week; will you please watch over +my dear boy for me? Then I shall work with a glad heart. Am I wrong in +asking this of you, I wonder? Anyway, I am</p> + +<p>Your grateful</p> + +<p>Hermione C.</p> + +<p>P.S. I hear you are a peanut man. You!!</p></div> + +<p>Truly the sun is a thrice-blessed thing—and yet—! Having read this +over with the greatest attention, taking preposterous heed to every dot +and comma, having carefully refolded it, slipped it into the envelope +and hidden it upon his person, he raised his eyes to the spotted text +upon the wall.</p> + +<p>"You're right," quoth he, nodding, "an altogether wise precept and one I +have had by heart ever since she blessed my sight. I must introduce you +to her at the earliest—the very earliest opportunity."</p> + +<p>Then he fell to whistling softly again, and opening the door, stepped +out into the bright little sitting room. Early though it was, Mrs. +Trapes was already astir in her kitchen, and since sunshine is +indubitably a worker of wonders, Mrs. Trapes was singing, rather harshly +to be sure, yet singing nevertheless, and this was her song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obadiah, Obadiah, I am dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said the old Obadiah to the young Obadiah,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obadiah, Obadiah, so am I.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said the young—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The song ended abruptly as, opening the door, she beheld her lodger.</p> + +<p>"Lordy Lord, Mr. Geoffrey," she exclaimed a little reproachfully, +"whatever are you a-doin' of, up an' dressed an' not half-past five +yet?"</p> + +<p>"Enjoying the morning, Mrs. Trapes, and yearning for my breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's just like a man; they're almighty good yearners till +they get what they yearns for—then they yearns for somethin' +else—immediate!"</p> + +<p>"Well, but I suppose women yearn too, sometimes, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"Not they; women can only hope an' sigh an' languish an' break their +hearts in silence, poor dears."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Would a couple o' fresh eggs an' a lovely ham rasher soot ye?" enquired +Mrs. Trapes.</p> + +<p>"They will suit."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go and fry' em!"</p> + +<p>"And I'll come and look on, if I may," said he, and followed her into +her neat kitchen.</p> + +<p>"And how," said Mrs. Trapes, as she prepared to make the coffee, "how's +the peanut trade, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Flourishing, thanks."</p> + +<p>"The idea of you a-sellin' peanuts!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've only been guilty of it four days so far, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, you've disgusted Hermy!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, so you told her, did you?"</p> + +<p>"O' course I did!"</p> + +<p>"And what did she say?"</p> + +<p>"Laughed at first."</p> + +<p>"She has a beautiful laugh!" said Ravenslee musingly.</p> + +<p>"An' then she got thoughtful—"</p> + +<p>"She's loveliest when she's thoughtful, I think," said Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"An' then she got mad at you an' frowned—"</p> + +<p>"She's very handsome when she frowns!" said Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shucks!" said his landlady, slapping the ham rasher into the pan.</p> + +<p>"And she was very angry, was she?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so!" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "stamped her foot an' got red in +the face—"</p> + +<p>"I love to see her flush!" said Ravenslee musingly again.</p> + +<p>"Said she wondered at you, she did! Said you was a man without any pride +or ambition—an' that's what I say too—peanuts!"</p> + +<p>"They're very wholesome!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Sellin' peanuts ain't a man's job, no more than grinding a organ is."</p> + +<p>"There's money in peanuts!"</p> + +<p>"Money!" said Mrs. Trapes, wriggling her elbow joints. "How much did you +make yesterday—come?"</p> + +<p>"Fifty cents."</p> + +<p>"Fifty cents!" she almost screamed, "is that all?"</p> + +<p>"No—pardon me! There were three pimply youths on Forty-second +Street—they brought it up to seventy-five."</p> + +<p>"Only seventy-five cents? But you sold out your stock; Tony told me you +did."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, trade was very brisk yesterday."</p> + +<p>"And you sold everything for seventy-five cents?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, Mrs. Trapes. You see, the majority of customers on my beat +are very—er—small, and their pecuniary capabilities necessarily +somewhat—shall we say restricted? Consequently, I have adopted +the—er—deferred payment system."</p> + +<p>"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring, "d'ye mean ter say—"</p> + +<p>"That my method of business is strictly—credit."</p> + +<p>"Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm talkin' serious an' don't want none +o' your jokes or jollying."</p> + +<p>"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, how d' you suppose you can keep a wife and children, maybe, +by selling peanuts that way or any way?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, when I marry I shall probably turn my—attention to—er—other +things, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"What things?"</p> + +<p>"Well—to my wife, in the first place."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, you make me tired!"</p> + +<p>"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, I frequently grow tired of myself."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes turned away to give her attention to the ham.</p> + +<p>"Did ye see that b'y Arthur yesterday?" she enquired presently over her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"How's he like his noo job?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't say that he seems—er—fired with a passion for it."</p> + +<p>"Office work, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"I believe it is."</p> + +<p>"Well, you mark my words, that b'y won't keep it a week."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Ravenslee, "he seemed quite content."</p> + +<p>"You took him to the theayter las' night, didn't you? Wastin' your good +money, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Not very much, Mrs. Trapes," said her lodger humbly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Anyway, it's a good thing you had him safe out o' +the way, as it happens."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because that loafer M'Ginnis was hanging around for him all the +evenin'. Even had the dratted imperence to come in here an' ask me where +he was."</p> + +<p>"And what did you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"Tell him?" she repeated. "What did I not tell him!" Her voice was +gentle, but what words could convey all the quivering ferocity of her +elbows! "Mr. Geoffrey, I told Bud M'Ginnis just exactly what kind o' a +beast Bud M'Ginnis is. I told Bud M'Ginnis where Bud M'Ginnis come from +an' where Bud M'Ginnis would go to. I told Bud M'Ginnis the character of +his mother an' father, very plain an' p'inted."</p> + +<p>"And what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"He say! Mr. Geoffrey, I didn't give him a chance to utter a single +word, of course. An' when I'd said all there was to say, I picked up my +heaviest flatiron, as happened to be handy, an' ordered him out; and Mr. +Geoffrey, Bud M'Ginnis—went!"</p> + +<p>"Under the circumstances," said Ravenslee, "I'm not surprised that he +did."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but he'll come back again, Mr. Geoffrey; he'll find Arthur alone +next time, an' Arthur'll go along with him, and then—good night! The +b'y'll get drunk an' lose his job like he did last time."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, he mustn't find Arthur alone."</p> + +<p>"And who's t' stop him?"</p> + +<p>"I."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, you're big an' strong, but M'Ginnis is stronger—and +yet—" Mrs. Trapes ran a speculative eye over Ravenslee's lounging form. +"H'm!" said she musingly, "but even if you did happen to lick him, what +about th' gang?"</p> + +<p>"Echo, Mrs. Trapes, promptly answers, 'what'?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Geoffrey, I can tell ye there's been more 'n one poor feller +killed around here to my knowing—yes, sir!"</p> + +<p>"But the police?"</p> + +<p>"Perlice!" snorted Mrs. Trapes. "M'Ginnis an' his father have a big pull +with Tammany, an' Tammany is the perlice. Anyways, Mr. Geoffrey, don't +you go having no trouble with Bud M'Ginnis; leave him to some one as is +as much a brute-beast as he is."</p> + +<p>"But then—what of Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, drat him! If Arthur ain't got the horse sense to know who's his +worst enemy, he ain't worth a clean man riskin' his life over—for it +would be your life you'd risk, Mr. Geoffrey—mark my words!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, your anxiety on my account flatters me, also I'm glad to +know you think me a clean man. But all men must take risks—some for +money, some for honour, and some for the pure love of it. Personally, I +rather like a little risk—just a suspicion, if it's for something worth +while."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, what are you gettin' at?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I would remind you that Spike has—a sister!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Trapes, and her lined face took on a sudden anxious +expression.</p> + +<p>"Therefore, I've been contemplating—er—tackling Mr. M'Ginnis—at a +proper and auspicious time, of course."</p> + +<p>"An' what o' the gang?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, drat the gang, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"But you don't mean as you'd fight M'Ginnis?"</p> + +<p>"Well—er—the thought has occurred to me, Mrs. Trapes, though I'm quite +undecided on the matter, and—er—I believe my breakfast is burning!"</p> + +<p>"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, turning to snatch the pan from the +stove, "I'm afraid the fire's ketched it a bit, Mr. Geoffrey—"</p> + +<p>"No matter."</p> + +<p>"An' now there's the coffee b'ilin' over!"</p> + +<p>"Let me help you," said Ravenslee, rising.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, your breakfast's ready, so come an' eat it while it's good an' +hot."</p> + +<p>"On condition that you eat with me."</p> + +<p>"What, eat wi' you, Mr. Geoffrey—in my best parlour—an' me in me +workin' clo'es?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, to be sure—not to be thought of, Mrs. Trapes; then we'll breakfast +here in the kitchen."</p> + +<p>"Would ye mind?"</p> + +<p>"Should love it."</p> + +<p>So down they sat together, and Ravenslee vowed the ham was all ham +should be and the eggs beyond praise. And when his hunger was somewhat +appeased, Mrs. Trapes leaned her bony elbows on the table and questioned +him.</p> + +<p>"You ain't ever spoke to Hermy, have you, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Very often, lately."</p> + +<p>"I mean—you ain't opened your 'eart to her—matrimonially, have you?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, I'll tell you what—there's been times when I've been afraid +that for the sake o' that b'y she'd sacrifice herself to Bud M'Ginnis."</p> + +<p>"No, she would never do that, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but she would."</p> + +<p>"But, you see, she couldn't!"</p> + +<p>"And why not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, because—er—I should kill him first."</p> + +<p>"Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey!" and Mrs. Trapes actually blenched before the +glare in his eyes that was so strangely at odds with his soft, lazy +tones.</p> + +<p>"And that ends it!" he nodded. "Mrs. Trapes, I've made up my mind!"</p> + +<p>"What about?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. M'Ginnis. I'll begin to-day."</p> + +<p>"Begin what?"</p> + +<p>"To prepare myself to bestow on him the thrashing of his life!" So +saying, Ravenslee stretched lazily and finally got up. "Good morning, +Mrs. Trapes!" said he.</p> + +<p>"But where are ye going?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"To my peanuts," he answered gravely. "'Man is born to labour,' you, +know."</p> + +<p>"But it's early yet."</p> + +<p>"But I have much to do—and she laughed at me for being a peanut man, +did she, Mrs. Trapes—she frowned and flushed and stamped her pretty +foot at me, did she?"</p> + +<p>"She did so, Mr. Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"I'm glad!" he answered. "Yes, I'm very glad she frowned and stamped +her foot at me. By the way, I like that text in my bedroom."</p> + +<p>"Text?" said Mrs. Trapes, staring.</p> + +<p>"'Love one another,'" he nodded. "It is a very—very beautiful +sentiment—sometimes. Anyway, I'm glad she frowned and stamped at me, +Mrs. Trapes; you can tell her I said so if you happen to think of it +when she comes home." And Ravenslee smiled, and turning away, was gone.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, staring at the closed door, "of all the—well, +well!" Then she sighed, shook her head, and fell to washing up the +breakfast things.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>WHICH INTRODUCES JOE AND THE OLD UN</h3> + + +<p>The clocks were striking nine as, according to his custom of late, +Geoffrey Ravenslee trundled his barrow blithely along Thirty-eighth +Street, halting now and then at the shrill, imperious summons of some +small customer, or by reason of the congestion of early traffic, or to +swear whole-heartedly and be sworn at by some indignant Jehu. At length +he came to Eleventh Avenue and to a certain quarter where the whistle of +a peanut barrow was seldom heard, and peanuts were a luxury.</p> + +<p>And here, in a dismal, small street hard by the river, behold Ravenslee +halt his gaily painted pushcart, whereat a shrill clamour arises that +swells upon the air, a joyous babel; and forth from small and dismal +homes, from narrow courts and the purlieus adjacent, his customers +appear. They race, they gambol, they run and toddle, for these customers +are very small and tender and grimy, but each small face is alight with +joyous welcome, and they hail him with rapturous acclaim. Even the few +tired-looking mothers, peeping from windows or glancing from doorways, +smile and nod and forget awhile their weariness in the children's +delight, as Ravenslee, the battered hat cocked at knowing angle, +proceeds to "business." Shrill voices supplicate him, little feet patter +close around him, small hands, eagerly outstretched, appeal to him. Anon +rise shrieks and infantile crowings of delight as each small hand is +drawn back grasping a plump paper bag—shrieks and crowings that +languish and die away, one by one, since no human child may shriek +properly and chew peanuts at one and the same time. And in a while, his +stock greatly diminished, Ravenslee trundles off and leaves behind him +women who smile still and small boys and girls who munch in a rapturous +silence.</p> + +<p>On he went, his oven whistling soft and shrill, his long legs striding +between the shafts, until, reaching a certain bleak corner, he halted +again, though to be sure there were few people hereabouts and no +children. But upon the opposite corner was a saloon, with a large annex +and many outbuildings behind, backing upon the river, and Ravenslee, +lounging on the handles of his barrow, examined this unlovely building +with keen eye from beneath his hat brim, for above the swing doors +appeared the words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>O'ROURKE'S SALOON</p></div> + +<p>He was in the act of lighting his pipe when the doors of the saloon were +swung open, and three men came out, in one of whom he recognised the +tall, powerful figure and broad shoulders of Bud M'Ginnis; his +companions were remarkable, but in very opposite ways, the one being +slender and youthful and very smartly dressed, with a face which, +despite its seeming youth, was strangely haggard and of an unhealthy +pallor, while the other was plethoric, red-faced and middle-aged, a man +hoarse of voice and roughly clad, and Ravenslee noticed that this fellow +lacked the upper half of one ear.</p> + +<p>"Saturday night, mind!" said M'Ginnis, loud and authoritative.</p> + +<p>"But say, Bud," demanded the smartly dressed youth, "what's coming to us +on that last deal?"</p> + +<p>"Nix—that's what you get, Soapy!" The youth's pale cheek grew livid.</p> + +<p>"So you've got the deck stacked against us, eh, Bud?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I got a close mouth, Soapy, I guess you don't want me t' open it very +wide—now or any other old time. Saturday night, mind!" and nodding, +M'Ginnis turned away. The youth looked after him with venomous eyes, +and his right hand made a sinister movement toward his hip pocket.</p> + +<p>"Aw—quit it; are ye crazy?" grunted his companion. "Bud's got us +cinched."</p> + +<p>"Got us—hell!" snarled the youth. "Bud's askin' for it, an' some day +he's goin' t' get it—good!"</p> + +<p>Toward afternoon, Ravenslee was trundling light-heartedly eastward, +his barrow emptied to the last peanut. Having reached Fifth Avenue, +he paused to mop his perspiring brow when a long, low automobile, +powerfully engined, that was creeping along behind, pulled up with a +sudden jerk, and its driver, whose immense shoulders were clad in a very +smart livery, pushed up the peak of his smart cap to run his fingers +through his close-cropped hair, while his mild blue eyes grew very wide +and round.</p> + +<p>"Crikey!" said he at last. "Is that you, sir, or ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"How much?" demanded Ravenslee gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Crumbs!" said the chauffeur. "Sir, if you—ain't you, all I say is—I +ain't me!"</p> + +<p>"Aw—what's bitin' ye, bo?" growled Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Well, if this ain't the rummest go, I'm a perisher!"</p> + +<p>"Say, now, crank up d' machine an' beat it while d' goin' 's good. How's +that, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, Mr. Ravenslee—so you are my guv'nor, and blow me tight—shoving +a barrer! I knowed it was you, sir; leastways I knowed your legs an' the +set o' them shoulders, but—with a barrer! Excuse me, sir, but the idea +o' you pushing a perishing peanut barrer so gay an' 'appy-'earted—well, +all I can say is love-a-duck!"</p> + +<p>"Well now, cut along, Joe, and get ready. I mean to put in some real +hard work with you this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Right-o, sir!" nodded Joe eagerly. "Lord, but we've missed you +terrible—the Old Un an' me."</p> + +<p>"Glad of it, Joe! Tell Patterson to have my bath ready when we've +finished. Off with you—drive in the Fifth Avenue entrance."</p> + +<p>Joe nodded, and the big car turned and crept silently away, while +Ravenslee, trundling onward, turned off to the left and so into a very +large, exceedingly neat garage where stood five or six automobiles of +various patterns in one of which, a luxurious limousine, an old, old man +snored blissfully. At the rumble of the barrow, however, this ancient +being choked upon a snore, coughed, swore plaintively, and finally sat +up. Perceiving Ravenslee, he blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stepping from +the car very nimbly despite his years, faced the intruder with a +ferocious scowl.</p> + +<p>He was indeed a very ancient man, though very nattily dressed from +spotless collar to shiny patent leather shoes, a small, dandified, +bright-eyed man whose broken nose and battered features bore eloquent +testimony to long and hard usage.</p> + +<p>"'Ook it!" he croaked, with square bony jaw fiercely outthrust. "We +don't want no peanuts 'ere, d'j 'ear? 'Op off, 'ook it before I break +every blessed bone in yer bloomin' body!"</p> + +<p>"What, Old Un, don't you know me, either?"</p> + +<p>"Lumme!" exclaimed the little old man, blinking beneath hoary brows. +"Ho, lor' lumme, it's 'im! Blimy, it's the Guv'nor—'ow do, Guv!" and +shooting immaculate cuffs over bony wrists he extended a clawlike hand.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Old Un?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, what with the rheumatix an' a stiff j'int or two an' a touch +o' lumbager, not to mention all my other ailments, I ain't quite s' spry +as I was!"</p> + +<p>"But you look very well!"</p> + +<p>"That's where your heyes deceives you, Guv. A great sufferer I be, +though patient under haffliction, ho, yus—except for a swear now an' +then which do me a power o' good—yus! If I was to tell you all the woes +as my poor old carkiss is hair to, you could write a book on 'em—a big +'un. I got everything the matter wi' me, I 'ave, from a thick ear an' +broke nose as I took in Brummagem sixty an' five years ago to a hactive +liver."</p> + +<p>"A what?" enquired Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"A hactive liver. Lord, Guv, my liver gets that hactive lately as I +can't set still—Joe knows, ax Joe! All as I ain't got o' human woes is +toothache, not 'avin' no teeth to ache, y' see, an' them s' rotten as it +'ud make yer 'eart bleed. An' then I get took short o' breath—look at +me now, dang it!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, sit down, Old Un," said Ravenslee, drawing up a somewhat +worn armchair. "Joe and I are going at it hard and fast this afternoon, +and I want you to time the rounds." And he proceeded to remove his +garments.</p> + +<p>"Oh, j'y!" cried the Old Un, hugging himself in bony arms. "Oh, j'yful +words. Ah, but you peels like a good un, sir," he croaked, viewing white +flesh and bulging muscle with knowing old eyes, "good an' long in the +arm an' wide slope o' shoulder. You might ha' done well in the ring if +you'd been blessed wi' poverty an' I'd 'ad the 'andling of ye—a world's +unbeat champion, like Joe. A good fighter were I an' a wonnerful +trainer! Ho, yus, I might ha' made a top-notcher of ye if you 'adn't +been cursed wi' money."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "I suppose Joe was one of the +best all-round fighting men that ever climbed into a ring?"</p> + +<p>"Ah—that 'e were! Joe were better 'n the best—only don't let 'im +'ear me say so, 'e 'd be that puffed up—Lord! But nobody could beat +Joe—black, yaller or white; they all tried danged 'ard, but Joe were a +world-beater—y' see, I trained Joe! An' to-day 'e 's as good as ever 'e +was. Y' see, Joe's allus lived clean, sir, consequent Joe's sound, +wind an' limb. Joe could go back an' beat all these fancy bruisers and +stringy young champs to-day—if 'e only would—but don't let 'im 'ear me +say so."</p> + +<p>"You're fond of Joe, Old Un?"</p> + +<p>"An' why for not, sir—s' long as 'e don't know it? Didn't 'e look arter +poor old me when 'e 'ad money, an' when 'e lost everything, didn't 'e +look arter me still? An' now 'e 's your shuvver, don' 'e keep a roof +over me poor old 'ead like a son—don't 'e give me the run o' jour +garridge an' let me watch 'im spar wi' you an' your gentlemen friends? +Ain't 'e the best an' truest-'earted man as ever drawed breath? Ah, a +king o' men is Joe, in the ring an' out, sir—only never let 'im 'ear me +say so—'e 'd be that proud, Lord! there'd be no livin' wi' 'im—sh, +'ere 'e be, sir."</p> + +<p>Joe had laid by his chauffeur's garb and looked even bigger and grimmer +in flannels and sweater.</p> + +<p>"Ho you, Joe," cried the old man, scowling, "did ye bring me that +'bacca?"</p> + +<p>"S'posin' I didn't?" demanded Joe.</p> + +<p>"Then dang ye—twice!"</p> + +<p>"An' s'posin' I did?"</p> + +<p>"Then—give it 'ere!"</p> + +<p>"An' that's his gratitood, sir!" growled Joe, shaking his head and +giving the packet into the old man's clutching fingers. "A unnat'ral old +bag-o'-bones, that's what 'e is, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Bones!" croaked the Old Un viciously. "Bag-o'-bones am I? Yah—look at +ye'self—pork, that's what you are, all run to pork an' blubber an' fat, +Joe, me pore lad—"</p> + +<p>"Fat!" growled Joe. "Y' know I ain't fat; y' know I'm as good a man as +ever I was—look at that, you old sarpent!" And he smote himself with +mighty fist—a blow to fell an ox. "Fat, am I?"</p> + +<p>"As—lard!" nodded the old man, filling half an inch of blackened clay +pipe with trembling fingers, "as a 'og—"</p> + +<p>"Now my crumbs—" began Joe fiercely.</p> + +<p>"You're flabby an' soft, me pore lad," grinned the old man. "Flabby as a +babby an' soft as a woman an' fat as a—"</p> + +<p>Joe reached out very suddenly, and picking up the old man, armchair and +all, shook him to and fro until he croaked for mercy.</p> + +<p>"Lor' gorramighty!" he panted, as Joe set him down again.</p> + +<p>"Fat, am I?" demanded Joe, scowling.</p> + +<p>"Fat as a 'og—fat as forty bloomin' 'ogs!" cried the old man +vindictively. "An' what's more, your wind's all gone—you couldn't go +five rounds wi' a good 'un!"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I?"</p> + +<p>"No!" shrieked the Old Un, "you'd be 'anging on an' blowing like a +grampus!"</p> + +<p>"Should I?"</p> + +<p>"Ah—like a grampus!"</p> + +<p>"Right-o!" nodded Joe, turning away, "no jam for <i>your</i> tea to-night."</p> + +<p>"Eh, what—what, would ye rob a pore old man of 'is jam, Joe—a pore +afflicted old cove as is dependent on ye 'and an' fut, Joe—a pore old +gaffer as you've just shook up to that degree as 'is pore old liver is +a-bobbin' about in 'is innards like a jelly. Joe, ye couldn't be so +'eartless!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I can!" nodded Joe. "An' if ye give me any more lip, it'll be +no sugar in ye tea—"</p> + +<p>"No sugar!" wailed the Old Un, then clenching a trembling old fist, he +shook it in Joe's scowling face. "Then dang ye—three times!" he cried. +"What's the old song say?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Dang the man with three times three<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in 'is 'eathen rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can 'arm a 'armless man like me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who's 'ead is bowed wi' age!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"An' there's for ye. Now listen again:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Some men is this an' some is that,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But 'ere's a truth I know:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fightin' cove who's run to fat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is bound t' puff an' blow!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"An' there's for ye again!"</p> + +<p>Saying which, the Old Un nodded ferociously and proceeded to light his +fragmentary pipe. During this colloquy Ravenslee had laid by his shabby +clothes and now appeared clad and shod for the ring.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Joe, taking a set of gloves from a locker, "if you are ready +to box a round or so—"</p> + +<p>"Why, no," answered Ravenslee, "I don't want to box to-day, Joe."</p> + +<p>"Eh?" said Joe, staring, "not?"</p> + +<p>"I want to fight, Joe."</p> + +<p>"To—fight, sir?" repeated Joe.</p> + +<p>"Fight?" cried the Old Un rapturously. "Oh, music—sweet music t' me old +ears! Fight? Oh, j'yful words! What's the old song say?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"''Appy is the first as goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To black a eye or punch a nose!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Get the mufflers on, Joe; get 'em on an' don't stand staring like a +fool!"</p> + +<p>"But, sir," said Joe, his mild eyes kindling, "d' ye mean as you +want—the real thing?"</p> + +<p>"To-day," said Ravenslee, "instead of boxing a round or two with Joe +Madden, my chauffeur and mechanic, I want to see how long I can stand up +to Joe Madden, undefeated champion of the world."</p> + +<p>Joe's lean cheek flushed and he looked Ravenslee over with eyes of +yearning; noted the thin flanks and slender legs that showed speed, the +breadth of shoulder and long arms that spoke strength, and the deep, +arched chest that showed endurance; Joe looked and sighed and shook his +head.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "I honour and respect you to that degree as it would be +a joy to fight such a man as you and a rare privilege t' knock you +down—but, sir, if I was to knock ye down—"</p> + +<p>"You'd earn a five-dollar bill."</p> + +<p>"Five dollars—for knockin' you down, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Every time!" nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"But Lord, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Joe, shut up," snarled the Old Un, hopping out of the +armchair. "Don't gape like a perishin' fish; come on up-stairs an' knock +the Guv'nor down like 'e tells ye—an' 'arves on the money, mind; it was +me as taught ye all you know or ever will, so 'arves on the money, Joe, +'arves on the money. Come on, Joe—d'j 'ear?"</p> + +<p>"Crumbs!" said Joe.</p> + +<p>"Look at 'im. Guv—look at 'im!" shrieked the old man, dancing to and +fro in his impatience, "'ere's a chance for 'im to earn a pore old cove +a bit o' 'bacca money, an', what's better still, t' show a pore old +fightin' man a bit o' real sport—an' there 'e stands, staring like a +perishing pork pig! Blimy, Guv, get behind an' 'elp me to shove 'im +up-stairs."</p> + +<p>"But, crikey, sir!" said Joe, "five dollars every time I—"</p> + +<p>"Yus, yus, you bloomin' hadjective—two dollars fifty for each of us! +'Urry up, oh, 'urry up afore 'e changes 'is mind an' begins to 'edge."</p> + +<p>So Joe follows his "Guv'nor" and the Old Un up a flight of stairs and +into a large chamber fitted as a gymnasium, where are four roped and +padded posts socketed into the floor; close by is a high-backed armchair +in which the Old Un seats himself with an air of heavy portent.</p> + +<p>But when Joe would have ducked under the ropes, the Old Un stayed him +with an imperious gesture, and, clambering into the ring, advanced to +the centre and bowed gravely as if to a countless multitude.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he piped in his shrill old voice, "I take pleasure to +introduce Joe Madden, undefeated 'eavyweight champion o' the world, an' +the Guv—both members of this club an' both trained by me, Jack Bowser, +once lightweight champion of England an' hall the Americas. Gentlemen, +it will be a fight to a finish—Markis o' Queensberry rules. +Gentlemen—I thank ye." Having said which, the Old Un bowed again, +gravely stepped from the ring, and ensconcing himself in the armchair, +drew out a large and highly ornate watch, while Ravenslee and Joe +vaulted over the ropes.</p> + +<p>Behold them facing each other, the brown-skinned fighting man wise in +ringcraft and champion of a hundred fights, and the white-fleshed +athlete, each alike clean and bright of eye, light-poised of foot, +quivering for swift action, while the Old Un looks needfully from one to +the other, watch in one bony hand, the other upraised.</p> + +<p>"Get ready!" he croaked. "Go!"</p> + +<p>Comes immediately a quick, light tread of rubber-soled feet and the +flash of white arms as they circle about and about, feinting, watchful +and wary. Twice Ravenslee's fist shoots out and twice is blocked by +Joe's open glove, and once he ducks a vicious swing and lands a half-arm +jolt that makes Joe grin and stagger, whereat the Old Un, standing upon +his chair, hugs himself in an ecstasy, and forgetful of such small +matters as five-dollar bills, urges, prays, beseeches, and implores the +Guv to "wallop the blighter on the p'int, to stab 'im on the mark, and +to jolt 'im in the kidney-pit."</p> + +<p>"Go it, Guv!" he shrieked, "go it! In an' out again, that's +it—Gorramighty, I never see sich speed. Oh, keep at 'im, Guv—make 'im +cover up—sock it into 'im, Guv! Ho, lumme, what footwork—you're as +quick as lightweights—oh, 'appy, 'appy day! Go to it, both on ye!"</p> + +<p>And "to it" they went, with jabs and jolts, hooks and swings, with +cunning feints and lightning counters until the place echoed and +reechoed to the swift tramp of feet and dull thudding of blows, while +the Old Un, hugging himself in long, bony arms, chuckled and choked and +rocked himself to and fro in an ecstasy; moreover, when Joe, uttering a +grunt, reeled back against the ropes, the Old Un must needs shriek and +dance and crow with delight until, bethinking him of his duty, he +checked his excitement, seated himself in the armchair again, and +announced: "Time! End o' round one."</p> + +<p>And it is to be noticed that as they sit down to take their two minutes' +rest, neither Ravenslee nor Joe, for all their exertions, seem unduly +distressed in their breathing.</p> + +<p>"Sir," says Joe, looking his pupil over, "you're uncommon quick on your +pins; never knowed a quicker—did you, Old Un?"</p> + +<p>"No, me lad—never in all me days!"</p> + +<p>"An' you've sure-ly got a punch, sir. Ain't 'e, Old Un?"</p> + +<p>"Like a perishin' triphammer!" nodded the Old Un. "Likewise, sir, you've +a wonderful judgment o' distance—but, sir, you need experience!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm after, Joe."</p> + +<p>"And you take too many chances; you ain't larned caution yet."</p> + +<p>"That you must teach me, Joe."</p> + +<p>"Which I surely will, sir. In the next round, subject to no objection, I +propose to knock ye down, sir."</p> + +<p>"Which means two dollars fifty for each on us, Joe—mind that," added +the Old Un.</p> + +<p>"So fight more cautious, sir, do," pleaded Joe, "and—look out."</p> + +<p>"Time!" croaked the Old Un. "Round two! And Guv, look out for yer p'int, +cover yer mark, an' keep a heye on yer kidney-pit!"</p> + +<p>Once again they faced each other, but this time it was Joe who circled +quick and catlike, massive shoulders bowed, knees bent, craggy chin grim +and firm-set, but blue eyes serene and mild as ever. A moment's silent +sparring, a quick tread of feet, and Joe feints Ravenslee into an +opening, swings for his chin, misses by an inch, and ducking a vicious +counter, drives home a smashing body-blow and, staggering weakly, +Ravenslee goes down full length.</p> + +<p>"Shook ye up a bit, sir?" enquired Joe, running up with hands +outstretched, "take a rest, now do, sir."</p> + +<p>"No, no," answered Ravenslee, springing to his feet, "the Old Un hasn't +called 'Time' yet."</p> + +<p>"Not me!" piped the old man, "not bloomin' likely! Go to it, both on +ye—mind, that's two-fifty for me, Joe!"</p> + +<p>What need is there to tell the numerous feints, the lightning shifts, +the different tricks of in-fighting and all the cunning strategy and +ringcraft that Joe brought to bear and carefully explained between +rounds? Suffice it that at the end of a certain fierce "mix up", as +Ravenslee sat outstretched and panting, the white flesh of arms and +broad chest discovered many livid marks and patches that told their +tale; also one elbow was grazed and bleeding, and one knee showed signs +of contact with the floor.</p> + +<p>"Joe," said he, when his wind was somewhat recovered, "that makes it +thirty dollars I owe you, I think?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said Joe, who also showed some slight signs of wear, but +whose breathing was soft and regular, "why, sir, you couldn't call that +last one a real knockdown—"</p> + +<p>"You 'm a liar, Joe, a liar!" cried the Old Un. "Blimy, Guv, Joe's +a-tellin' you crackers, s' help me—your 'ands touched the floor, didn't +they?"</p> + +<p>"And my knees, too," nodded Ravenslee, "also my elbow—no, that was last +time or the time before."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, tell this lying Joe-lad o' mine as 'e surely did knock ye +down. Lord, Joe!" cried the Old Un, waxing pathetic, "'ow can ye go +takin' money from a pore old cove like I be. Joe, I blushes for +ye—an'—Time, Time there, both on ye!"</p> + +<p>"But we don't want any more, do we, sir?" enquired Joe.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I think I can go another round or so."</p> + +<p>"There y' are, Joe, the Guv's surely a game cove. So get at it, me lad, +an' try an' knock it up to fifty dollars—'arves, Joe, mind!"</p> + +<p>"But, sir," began Joe, eyeing the livid blotches on Ravenslee's white +skin, "don't ye think—"</p> + +<p>"Time—oh, Time, Time!" shrieked the Old Un. Whereupon Ravenslee sprang +to the centre of the ring, and once again the air resounded with tramp +of feet and pant of breath. Twice Ravenslee staggers beneath Joe's +mighty left, but watchful ever and having learned much, Ravenslee keeps +away, biding his time—ducks a swing, sidesteps a drive, and blocking a +vicious hook—smacks home his long left to Joe's ribs, rocks him with a +swinging uppercut, drives in a lightning left and right, and Joe goes +down with a crash.</p> + +<p>Even while the Old Un stared in wide-eyed, gaping amaze, Joe was on his +feet again, serene and calm as ever, only his great chest laboured +somewhat, but Ravenslee shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I guess that'll be about enough, Joe," said he.</p> + +<p>"Guv," cried the Old Un, seizing Ravenslee's right hand, boxing glove +and all, and shaking it to and fro, "you're a credit to us, you do us +bloomin' proud—strike me pink, ye do! 'Ere 's Joe 'ammered you an' +'ammered you—look at your bloomin' chest—lumme! 'Ere 's Joe been +knockin' ye down an' knockin' ye down, an' you comin' up smilin' for +more an' gettin' it—'ere's Joe been a-poundin' of ye all over the ring, +yet you can finish strong an' speedy enough to put Joe down—blimy, Guv, +you're a wonder an' no error!"</p> + +<p>"I don't think Joe fought his hardest, Old Un."</p> + +<p>"If 'e didn't," cried the old man, "I'll punch 'im on the nose so 'e +won't never smell nothink no more."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Joe, "in the first round p'raps I did go a bit easylike, but +arter that I came at you as 'ard an' 'eavy as I could. I 'it you where +an' 'ow I could, barrin' your face."</p> + +<p>"I hope I shall soon be good enough for you to go for my face as well, +Joe."</p> + +<p>"But, sir—if I give you a black eye—"</p> + +<p>"How will—say, ten dollars do?"</p> + +<p>"Ten dollars! For blacking your eye, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Lumme, Joe!" cried the Old Un, "get back into the ring and black 'em +both—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" said Joe, scowling down into the Old Un's eager face, "you +'eartless old bloodsucker, you!"</p> + +<p>"Bloodsucker!" screamed the old man, "w'ot, me? I'll punch you on the +ear-'ole, Joe, so's you never 'ear nothin' no more."</p> + +<p>"Are you on, Joe?" asked Ravenslee, while the Old Un, swearing softly, +unlaced his gloves.</p> + +<p>"But, crumbs, sir—axin' your pardon, things'll come a bit expensive, +won't they? Y' see—"</p> + +<p>"So much the better, ye blighted perisher!" snarled the Old Un, "an' +don't forget as the Guv owes you thirty dollars a'ready—an' 'arves, +mind."</p> + +<p>"Stow it, you old bag o' wickedness—"</p> + +<p>"Bag o'—" the Old Un let fall the boxing gloves and turning on Joe, +reached up and shook a feeble old fist under the champion's massive +chin. "Look at this, me lad—look at this!" he croaked. "Some day I +shall ketch you sich a perishin' punch as'll double ye up till kingdom +come, me lad, and—Lord, the Guv's countin' out our money—"</p> + +<p>"Thirty of 'em, Joe," said Ravenslee, holding out a wad of bills.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said Joe, backing away, "axing yer pardon, but I'd rayther +not—you give me such uncommon good wages, sir, and a bonus every race +we run, win or lose—so, sir, I—I'd rayther not—"</p> + +<p>"Not?" cried the Old Un, "not take money as is 'arf mine—Oh, kick 'im, +somebody—kick 'im! Pound 'im for a pigeon-'earted perishin' pork pig—"</p> + +<p>"That'll be no sugar in your tea t'night, old viciousness! But, sir, I'd +rayther not—"</p> + +<p>"Don't 'eed 'im, Guv—don't 'eed the flappin' flounder. If 'e wont +obleege ye in a little matter like thirty dollars, I will—I'll always +obleege you—"</p> + +<p>"That's enough from you, old tombstones."</p> + +<p>"Tombstones!" hissed the Old Un, scowling darkly and squaring his +trembling fists, "all right, me lad, 'ere 's where I ketch ye one as'll +flatten ye out till the day o' doom—"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Joe caught him above the elbows, and lifting him in mighty +hands that yet were gentle, seated the snarling old fellow in the +armchair.</p> + +<p>"Old Un," said he, shaking his finger, "if ye give me any more of +it—off t' bed I take ye without any tea at all!" The Old Un, cowering +beneath that portentous finger, swore plaintively and promptly subsided.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Ravenslee, thrusting the money into Joe's reluctant +hand, "when I make a bargain, I generally keep it. I wish all my money +had been spent to such good purpose."</p> + +<p>"What about me?" whined the old man humbly, "don't I get none, Joe-lad?"</p> + +<p>"Not a cent, you old rasper!"</p> + +<p>"Blimy, Guv, you won't forget a old cove as 'ud shed 'is best blood for +ye?"</p> + +<p>"The Guv'nor don't want yer blood, old skin-and-bones. And now, come on, +sir—"</p> + +<p>"Stay a minute, Joe, the Old Un generally keeps time for us when we spar +rounds."</p> + +<p>"That I do, Guv," cried the old man, "an' give ye advice worth its +weight in solid gold; you owe me a lot, s' 'elp me."</p> + +<p>"About how much?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Guv, I ain't got me ledger-book 'andy, but roughly speakin' I +should say about five or six 'undred dollars. But seein' you 's you an' +I'm me—a old man true-'earted as never crossed nobody—let's +say—fifteen dollars."</p> + +<p>"Why, you old—thievin'—vagabone!" gasped Joe, as Ravenslee gravely +handed over the money.</p> + +<p>"Vagabone yourself!" said the Old Un, counting the bills over in +trembling fingers. "The Guv wants a bath—take 'im away—'ook it, d'j +'ear?"</p> + +<p>"Has Patterson got everything ready, Joe?" enquired Ravenslee, taking up +his clothes.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," mumbled Joe, "but I'll have ye bath ready in a jiffy, sir."</p> + +<p>"But where's Patterson?"</p> + +<p>"Well, 'e—'e 's out, sir."</p> + +<p>"And the footmen?"</p> + +<p>"They're out, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh! And the housekeeper—er—what's her name—Mrs. Smythe?"</p> + +<p>"Gone to call on her relations, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ah! And the maids?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Smythe give 'em leave of habsence, sir. Y' see, sir," said Joe +apologetically, "you're 'ere so seldom, sir."</p> + +<p>"My servants are not exactly—er—worked to death, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Manage to look after themselves quite well?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"It seems I need some one to look after them—and me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"A woman, Joe—one I can trust and honour and—what d' ye think?"</p> + +<p>"I think—er—yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well—what do you suggest?"</p> + +<p>"Marry her, sir."</p> + +<p>"Joe, that's a great idea! Shake hands! I surely will marry her—at +once—if she'll have me."</p> + +<p>"She'll have you, sir."</p> + +<p>"Do you really think she will, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"I'm dead certain, sir."</p> + +<p>"Joe, shake again. I'll speak to her when she comes home. To-morrow's +Saturday, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"As ever was, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then, Joe—wish me luck; I'll ask her—to-morrow!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>OF THE FIRST AND SECOND PERSONS, SINGULAR NUMBER</h3> + + +<p>It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was making a pie and looking +uncommonly handsome about it and altogether feminine and adorable; at +least, so Ravenslee thought, as he watched her bending above the pastry +board, her round, white arms bared to each dimpled elbow, and the +rebellious curl wantoning at her temple as usual.</p> + +<p>"But why kidneys, my dear?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from the +potatoes she was peeling. "Kidneys is rose again; kidneys is always +risin', it seems to me. If you must have pie, why not good, plain +beefsteak? It's jest as fillin' an' cheaper, my dear—so why an' +wherefore kidneys?"</p> + +<p>"Arthur likes them, and he'll be hungry when he comes in—"</p> + +<p>"Hungry," snorted Mrs. Trapes, "that b'y's been hungry ever since he +drawed the breath o' life. How's he gettin' on with his new job?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, splendidly!" cried Hermione, flushing with sisterly pride, "they've +promised him a raise next month."</p> + +<p>"What, already?" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, cutting viciously into a potato. +"If he don't watch out, they'll be makin' him a partner next."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ann, I wish you were not quite so—so hard on him!" sighed +Hermione. "Remember, he's only a boy!"</p> + +<p>"You were a woman at his age, earning enough t' keep ye both—but there! +I don't mean t' be hard, Hermy; anyway, a man's never much good till +he's growed up, and then only because some woman teaches him how t' be."</p> + +<p>"What do you say to that, Mr. Geoffrey?" enquired Hermione, pausing, +flour-dredger in hand, to glance at him slily under her brows.</p> + +<p>"I think Mrs. Trapes is a wonderful woman," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now, Mr. Geoffrey, quit y'r jollying," said Mrs. Trapes, smiling at +the potato.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes has taught me much wisdom already and, among other things, +that I shall never be or do anything worth the while without the aid of +a woman—"</p> + +<p>"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey, I never remember sayin' no sich thing!"</p> + +<p>"Not in so many words, perhaps, but you implied it, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"H'm!" said Mrs. Trapes dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Consequently, I mean to ask that woman—on the very first opportunity, +Miss Hermione." Seeing that Hermione was silent, all her attention being +centred in the dough her white fists were kneading, Mrs. Trapes spoke +instead.</p> + +<p>"D' ye mean as you want some one t' look after you—to sew an' cook an' +wash an' sew buttons on for ye—I know the sort!"</p> + +<p>"I certainly do, and—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, it's a slave you want, Mr. Geoffrey, and peanut men don't have +slaves—not unless they marries 'em, and a woman as would marry a peanut +man has only herself t' blame—peanuts!"</p> + +<p>Hermione laughed, reached for the rolling-pin, and immediately fell to +work with it, her head stooped rather lower than was necessary. As for +Ravenslee, he lounged in his chair, watching the play of those round, +white arms.</p> + +<p>"But why the kidneys, Hermy? You've got to cut out luxuries now, my +dear—we all have, I guess; it'll be dry bread next, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Why so?" enquired Ravenslee lazily.</p> + +<p>"Why?" cried Mrs. Trapes bitterly, "I'll tell you why—because me an' +Hermy an' every one else is bein' squeezed dry t' fill the pockets of a +thing as calls itself a man—a thievin' beast on two legs as is suckin' +our blood, gnawin' our flesh, grindin' the life out of us—a great fat +man as is treadin' us down under his great boots, down an' down to +slavery—death—an' worse—it's such men as him as keeps the flames of +hell goin'—fat frizzles well, an' so will Mulligan, I hope!"</p> + +<p>"Mulligan?" enquired Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"He's raised the rents on us, Mr. Geoffrey," sighed Hermione.</p> + +<p>"Raised the rents?" said Ravenslee, forgetting to lounge.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes grimly. "I guess he thinks we live too easy +an' luxoorious, so he's boosted it up a dollar per. A dollar a week +don't sound a whole lot, p'raps, but it sure takes some gettin'; folks +expects a deal o' scrubbin' an' sewin' an' slavin' for a dollar—yes, +sir."</p> + +<p>"We shall have to work a little harder, that's all, Ann dear."</p> + +<p>"Harder? I guess you work hard enough for two—an' who gets the benefit? +Why, Mulligan does. Oh, it's a great comfort t' remember the flames of +hell, sometimes. Lord, when I think how we have t' slave t' make enough +t' live—"</p> + +<p>"There are others worse than us, Ann."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, there's poor Mrs. Finlay; she's got to go, an' her husband +paralysed! There's little Mrs. Bowker sewed herself pretty well blind t' +keep her home together—she's got to go. There's Mrs. Sims with all +those children, and the—but there, who cares for the likes o' them—who +cares, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? An' what might you be dreamin' over this time?" +she enquired, eyeing Ravenslee's long figure a little contemptuously, +for he had fallen to lounging again, sleepy eyes half closed.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking what a lot of interest we might find in this busy +world—if we only would take the trouble to look for it!" he answered. +"The fool who complains that his life is empty is blind and deaf +and—damnably thick—er—pardon me, I—er nearly got excited."</p> + +<p>"Excited?" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "I'd pay good money t' see you like +that!"</p> + +<p>"You see, I had an idea—a rather original idea!"</p> + +<p>"Then take care of it, Mr. Geoffrey; nurse it careful, and we'll have ye +doin' bigger things than push a peanut barrer—peanuts!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, I've got a stranglehold on that idea, for it is rather +brilliant."</p> + +<p>"There's that kettle b'ilin' at last, thank goodness!" sighed Mrs. +Trapes, crossing to the stove, "tea's a luxury, I suppose, but—oh, drat +Mulligan, anyway!"</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Trapes brewed the tea, while Ravenslee gazed at Hermione again, +at her shapely arms, her dimpled elbows, her preoccupied face—a face so +serenely, so utterly unaware of his regard, of course, until he chanced +to look away, and then—Hermione stole a glance at him.</p> + +<p>"There, my dear," said Mrs. Trapes after a while, "there's a cup o' tea +as <i>is</i> a cup o' tea, brewed jest on the b'ile, in a hot pot, and drawed +to perfection! Set right down an' drink it, slow an' deliberate. Tea +ain't meant to be swallowed down careless, like a man does his beer! An' +why?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, as they sipped the fragrant beverage, all +three, "why ain't you out with your precious—peanuts, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee set down his cup and turned to Hermione.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes has told you, I think, that I am become—er—an itinerant +vendor of the ubiquitous peanut—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, gulping a mouthful of hot tea and +blinking, "I never did! Never in all my days would I allow myself such +expressions—Mr. Geoffrey, I'm ashamed at you! An' that reminds me—it +was chicken fricassee, wasn't it? For your supper, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"I believe it was."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Mrs. Trapes, rising, "I'll go an' buy it. Was you wantin' +anything fetched, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"If you wouldn't mind bringing a bunch of asparagus—"</p> + +<p>"Sparrergrass!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes in horror-struck tones, "why, it's +anywhere from thirty to sixty cents—"</p> + +<p>"But Arthur loves it, dear, and now that he's working so hard—"</p> + +<p>"Arthur likes!" cried Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Mr. Geoffrey, it's been +Arthur ever since he was born, an' her scrinchin' an' pinchin' herself +for the sake o' that b'y. O' course he likes sparrergrass—so do I—but +I make shift with pertatoes or cabbidge or carrots—an' so should he. +Come now, Hermy, you take a bunch o' carrots instead; carrots is healthy +an' cheap! Come now, is that sparrergrass to be carrots or not?"</p> + +<p>"Ann, that asparagus is to be—asparagus!"</p> + +<p>"Such wicked extravagance, an' all for that b'y. Hermy, I'm surprised at +ye!"</p> + +<p>For a long moment after Mrs. Trapes had departed there was silence, +while Ravenslee sat gazing where Hermione stood busy at her pastry +again.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey," said she at last, "I want to thank you for watching over +my boy. Arthur told me how good you were to him while I was away. I want +you to know how grateful I am—"</p> + +<p>"What beautiful hands you have, Hermione—and I shall dream of your +arms."</p> + +<p>"My arms?" she repeated, staring.</p> + +<p>"They're so—smooth and white—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's flour!" said she, bending over the table.</p> + +<p>"And so—round—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey! Can't you find something else to talk about?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," he answered, "there are your feet, so slender and +shapely—"</p> + +<p>"In these frightful old shoes!" she added.</p> + +<p>"Worn out mostly in other peoples' service," he nodded. "God bless +them!"</p> + +<p>"They let the wet in horribly when it rains!" she sighed.</p> + +<p>"So heaven send us dry weather! Then there is your wonderful hair," he +continued, "so long and soft and—"</p> + +<p>"And all bunched up anyhow!" said she, touching the heavy, shining +braids with tentative fingers. "Please don't say any more, Mr. Geoffrey, +because I just know I look a sight—I feel it! And in this old gown +too—it's the one I keep to scrub the floors in—"</p> + +<p>"Scrub the floors?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, floors must be scrubbed, and I've had plenty—oh, +plenty of experience—now what are you thinking?"</p> + +<p>"That a great many women might envy you that gown for the beauty that +goes with it. You are very beautiful, you know, Hermione."</p> + +<p>"And beauty in a woman is—everything, isn't it?" she said a little +bitterly and with head suddenly averted.</p> + +<p>"Have I offended you?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered without looking around, "only sometimes you are so +very—personal."</p> + +<p>"Because the First and Second Persons Singular Number are the most +interesting persons in the world, and—Hermione, in all this big world +there is only one person I want. Could you ever learn to love a peanut +man?"</p> + +<p>"That would all depend—on the peanut man," she answered softly, "and +you—you don't talk or act a little bit like a real peanut man."</p> + +<p>"Well, could you stoop to love this peanut man just as he is, with all +his faults and failures, love him enough to trust yourself to his +keeping, to follow him into the unknown, to help him find that Beautiful +City of Perhaps—could you, Hermione?" As he ended he rose to his feet, +but swiftly, dexterously, she eluded him.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" she pleaded, facing him across the table, "I—I want to talk to +you—to ask you some questions, and I want you to be serious, please."</p> + +<p>"Solemn as sixty judges!" he nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, first, Mr. Geoffrey—why do you pretend to sell peanuts?"</p> + +<p>"Pretend!" he repeated, trying to sound aggrieved.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not blind, Mr. Geoffrey."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed—I think your eyes are the most beau—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, please be serious!"</p> + +<p>"As a dozen owls!"</p> + +<p>"I—I know," she went on quickly, "I'm sure you haven't always had to +live in such—such places as Mulligan's. I know you don't belong here as +I do. Is it necessity has driven you to live here or only—curiosity?"</p> + +<p>"Well—er—perhaps a little of both," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"Then you're not obliged to sell peanuts for a living?"</p> + +<p>"'Obliged' is scarcely the word, perhaps; let us call it a peanut +penchant, a hobby, a—"</p> + +<p>"You are not quite so—poverty-stricken as you pretend?" Her voice was +very soft and gentle, but she kept her head averted, also her foot was +tapping nervously in its worn shoe.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to money," he answered, "I have enough for my simple needs, but +in every other sense I am a miserable pauper. You see, there are some +things no money can buy, and they are generally the best things of +life."</p> + +<p>"And so," said she, interrupting him gently, "you come here to +Mulligan's, you deceive every one into thinking you are very poor, you +make a pretence of selling peanuts and push a barrow through the +streets—why?"</p> + +<p>"First, because pushing a barrow is—er—very healthy exercise."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Geoffrey?" she said in the same soft voice.</p> + +<p>"And second," he continued, wishing he could see her face, "second, +because I find it—er, well—highly amusing."</p> + +<p>"Amusing!" she cried, turning suddenly, her eyes very bright and her +cheeks hot and anger-flushed. "Amusing!" she repeated, "ah, yes—that's +just it—it's all only a joke to you, to be done with when it grows +tiresome. But my life here—our life is very real—ah, terribly real, +and has been—sordid sometimes. What is only sport to you for a little +while is deadly earnest to me; you are only playing at poverty, but I +must live it—"</p> + +<p>"And thirdly," he continued gently, "because I love you, Hermione!"</p> + +<p>"Love me!" she repeated, shaking her head. "Ah, no, no—your world is +not my world nor ever could be."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, your world shall be mine."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but for how long?" she demanded feverishly. "I wonder how long you +could endure this world of mine? I have had to work and slave all my +life, but you—look at your hands, so white and well-cared for—yours +are not the hands of a worker!"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm afraid they're not!" he admitted a little ruefully.</p> + +<p>"Now look at mine—see my fingers all roughened by my needle."</p> + +<p>"Such busy, capable hands!" said he, drawing a pace nearer, "hands +always working for others, so strong to help the distressed. I love and +honour them more just because of those work-roughened fingers." As he +spoke he reached out very suddenly, and clasping those slender hands, +stooped and kissed them reverently. Now, glancing up, he beheld her red +lips quivering while her eyes were suffused all at once, as, drooping +her head, she strove to loose his hold.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" she whispered, "I—I—ah, let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Hermione," he breathed, "oh, Hermione, how beautiful you are!" But at +this she cried out almost as if he had struck her and, wrenching her +hands free, covered her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God!—are all men the same?"</p> + +<p>"Hermione," he stammered, "Hermione—what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean," she answered, proud head up-flung, "there were always plenty +of men to tell me that—when I was an office scrubwoman. Well?" she +demanded fiercely, stung by something in his look, "what did you think +I'd been? When a girl is left alone with a baby brother to care for, +she can't wait and pick and choose work that is nice and ladylike; she +must take what comes along or starve—so I worked. I used to scrub +floors and stairs in an office building. I was very young then, and +Arthur hardly more than a baby, and it was either that or starvation +or—" she flushed painfully, but her blue eyes met his regard +unflinchingly; "anyway, I—preferred to be a scrubwoman. So now you know +what I mean by your world not being my world, and I—I guess you see +how—how impossible it all is."</p> + +<p>For a long moment was a silence wherein she stood turned from him, her +trembling fingers busily folding and refolding a pleat in her apron +while he stared down blindly at the floor.</p> + +<p>"So you preferred the slavery of scrubbing floors, did you, Hermione?" +he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Of course!" she answered, without turning or lifting her heavy head.</p> + +<p>"And that," said he, his voice as placid, as serenely unhurried as +usual, "and that is; just why all things are going to be possible to +us—yes, even turning my wasted years to profit. Oh, my Hermione, help +me to be worthy of you—teach me what a glorious thing life may be—"</p> + +<p>"I?" she said wonderingly, her drooping head still averted, "but I am—"</p> + +<p>"Just the one woman I want to be my own for ever and always, more—far +more than I have ever wanted anything in my life."</p> + +<p>"But," she whispered, "I am only—"</p> + +<p>"The best, the noblest I have ever known."</p> + +<p>"But a—scrubwoman!"</p> + +<p>"With dimples in her elbows, Hermione!" In one stride he was beside her, +and she, because of his light tone, must turn at last to glance up at +him half-fearfully; but those grey eyes were grave and reverent, the +hands stretched out to her were strangely unsteady, and when he spoke +again, his voice was placid no longer.</p> + +<p>"Dear," he said, leaning toward her, "from the very first I've been +dying to have you in my arms, but now I—I dare not touch you unless +you—will it so. Ah, don't—don't turn from me; let me have my +answer—look up, Hermione!"</p> + +<p>Slowly she obeyed, and beholding the shy languor of her eyes, the sweet +hurry of her breathing, and all the sighing, trembling loveliness of +her, he set his arms about her, drawing her close; and she, yielding to +those compelling arms, gave herself to the passion of his embrace. And +so he kissed her, her warm, soft-quivering mouth, her eyes, her silken +hair, until she sighed and struggled in his clasp.</p> + +<p>"My hair," she whispered, "see—it's all coming down!"</p> + +<p>"Well, let it—I'd love to see it so, Hermione."</p> + +<p>"Should you? Why then—let me go," she pleaded.</p> + +<p>Reluctantly he loosed her, and standing well beyond his reach, she shook +her shapely head, and down, down fell the heavy coils, past shoulder and +waist and hip, rippling in shining splendour to her knees. Then, while +he gazed spellbound by her loveliness she laughed a little unsteadily, +and flushing beneath his look, turned and fled from him to the door; +when he would have followed she stayed him.</p> + +<p>"Please," she said, tender-voiced, "I want to be alone—it is all so +wonderful, I want to be alone and—think."</p> + +<p>"I may see you again to-night, Hermione? Dear—I must."</p> + +<p>"Why, if you must," she said, "how can I—prevent you?"</p> + +<p>Then, all at once, her cool, soft arms were about his neck, had drawn +him down to meet her kiss, and—he was alone with the pastry board, the +rolling-pin and the flour-dredger—but he saw them all through a golden +glory, and when he somehow found himself out upon the dingy landing, the +glory was all about him still.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE MADE A DEAL IN REAL ESTATE</h3> + + +<p>The morning sun blazed down, and Tenth Avenue was full of noise and dust +and heat; children screamed and played and fought together, carts +rumbled past, distant street cars clanged their bells, the sidewalks +were full of the stir and bustle of Saturday; but Ravenslee went his way +heedless of all this, even of the heat, for before his eyes was the +vision of a maid's shy loveliness, and he thrilled anew at the memory of +two warm lips. Thus he strode unheeding through the jostling throng at a +speed very different from his ordinary lounging gait. Very soon he came +to a small drug-store, weather-beaten and grimy of exterior but very +bright within, where everything seemed in a perpetual state of glitter, +from the multitudinous array of bottles and glassware upon the shelves +to the taps and knobs of the soda fountain. Yet nowhere was there +anything quite so bright as the shrewd, twinkling eyes of the little +grey-haired man who greeted Ravenslee with a cheery nod.</p> + +<p>"Hot enough?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Quite!" answered Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Goin' to be hotter."</p> + +<p>"Afraid so."</p> + +<p>"Rough on th' kiddies, an' ice goin' up. Which reminds me I sent on the +mixture you ordered for little Hazel Bowker."</p> + +<p>"Good," nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"And the pills to Mrs. Sims."</p> + +<p>"Good again."</p> + +<p>"An' the sleeping-draught for old Martin Finlay."</p> + +<p>"Good once more."</p> + +<p>"Won't last long, old Martin, I guess. Never been the same since little +Maggie drowned herself, poor child. What d'ye want this morning?"</p> + +<p>"First to pay for the medicine," said Ravenslee, laying a five-dollar +bill on the counter, "and then the use of your 'phone."</p> + +<p>"Right there," said the chemist, nodding toward a certain shady corner, +where, remote from all intruding bustle, was a telephone booth into +which Ravenslee stepped forthwith and where ensued the following +one-sided conversation:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Hello!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone</span>. "Buzz!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Hello, Central, give me Thirty-three Wall, please."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone</span>. "Ting-a-ling—buzz!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Damn this 'phone—what? No, I said Double-three +Wall."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone.</span> "Buzz! Ting! Zut!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Sounded different, did it? Well, I want—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone.</span> "Buzz! Zut! Ting!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Thanks. Hello, that Thirty-three Wall? Dana and +Anderson's Office? Good! I want to speak with Mr. Anderson—say Mr. +Ravenslee."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone</span>. "Zing!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Thanks. That you, Anderson?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone</span>. "Pang!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Thanks—very well! What the devil's wrong with this +instrument of torment—can you hear me?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Telephone</span>. "Crack!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ravenslee</span>. "Good! Yes—that's better! Now listen; I want you to +do some business for me. No, I'm buying, not selling. I'm going into +real estate. What, a bad speculation? Well, anyway, I'm buying tenement +property in Tenth Avenue, known as Mulligan's, I believe. Oh, you've +heard of it, eh? Not in the market? Not for sale? Well, I'll buy it. Oh, +yes, you can—what d' you suppose is his figure? So much? Phew! Oh, +well, double it. No, I'm not mad, Anderson. No, nor drunk—I just happen +to want Mulligan's—and I'll have it. When can you put the deal through? +Oh, nonsense, make him sell at once—get him on the 'phone. Oh, yes, he +will, if you offer enough—Mulligan would sell his mother—at his own +price. You quite understand—at once, mind! All right, good-by. No, I'm +not mad—nor drunk, man; I haven't tasted a cocktail for a month. Eh—go +and get one? I will!"</p> + +<p>So saying, Ravenslee hung up the receiver and hastened out of the +stifling heat of the suffocating booth, mopping perspiring brow.</p> + +<p>"You look kinder warm!" ventured the chemist.</p> + +<p>"I feel it."</p> + +<p>"And it's going to be warmer. Try an ice-cream soda—healthy and +invigorating."</p> + +<p>"And better than any cocktail on such a day!"</p> + +<p>"I guess! Take one?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, yes."</p> + +<p>So the bright-eyed chemist mixed the beverage and handed it over the +counter.</p> + +<p>"Chin-chin!" he nodded.</p> + +<p>"Twice," said Ravenslee, lifting the long glass. "To the Beautiful City +of Perhaps!" and he drank deep.</p> + +<p>"Say," said the chemist, staring, "that sounds t' me like a touch of the +sun. Try a bottle of my summer mixture, good for sunstroke, heat-bumps, +colic, spasms, and Hell's Kitchen generally—try a bottle?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Ravenslee, "I will." And grimly pocketing the bottled +panacea, he stepped out into the hot and noisy avenue.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>HOW SPIKE HEARKENED TO POISONOUS SUGGESTION AND SOAPY BEGAN TO WONDER</h3> + + +<p>Spike was on his way from the office, very conscious of his new straw +hat and immaculate collar; his erstwhile shabby suit had been cleaned +and pressed by Hermione's skilled and loving fingers, hence Spike turned +now and then as he passed some shop window to observe the general effect +with furtive eye; and stimulated by his unwontedly smart appearance, he +whistled joyously as he betook himself homeward. Moreover in his breast +pocket was his pay envelope, not very bulky to be sure, wherein lay his +first week's wages, and as often as he turned to glance at the tilt of +the straw hat or heed the set of his tie, his hand must needs steal to +this envelope to make sure of its safety. His fingers were so employed +when he chanced to espy a certain article exposed for sale in an +adjacent shop window; whereupon, envelope in hand, he incontinent +entered and addressed the plump Semitic merchant in his usual easy +manner.</p> + +<p>"Greetings, Abe! I'll take one o' them hair-combs."</p> + +<p>"Hair-gombs?" nodded the merchant. "Vot kind?"</p> + +<p>"What kind? Why, the best you got."</p> + +<p>"Ve got 'em up to veefty dollars—"</p> + +<p>"Come off it, Cain, come off—I ain't purchasin' a diamond aigrette +to-day, it's a lady's hair-comb I want—good, but not too +flossy-lookin'—savvy that? This'll do, I guess—how much? Right there!" +said Spike, flicking a bill upon the counter. "That's it, stick it in a +box—oh, never mind th' wrappin's. S'long, Daniel!"</p> + +<p>With his purchase in his pocket, Spike strode out of the shop, +whistling cheerily, but the merry notes ended very suddenly as he dodged +back again, yet not quite quick enough, for a rough voice hailed him, +hoarse and jovial.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello, Kid, how goes it?" M'Ginnis's heavy hand descended on his +shrinking shoulder and next moment he was out on the sidewalk where +Soapy lounged, a smouldering cigarette pendent from his thin, pallid +lips as usual. And Soapy's eyes, so bright between their narrowed, puffy +lids, so old-seeming in the youthful oval of his pale face, were like +his cigarette, in that they smouldered also.</p> + +<p>"Holy smoke!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, surveying Spike up and down in mock +amazement, "this ain't you, Kid—no, this sure ain't you. Looks all t' +th' company-promoter, don't he, Soapy?"</p> + +<p>"'S' right, Kid, 's' right!" nodded the pallid youth, his smouldering +eyes always turning toward M'Ginnis.</p> + +<p>"Say, now, Bud, quit your kiddin'!" said Spike petulantly.</p> + +<p>"But, Gee whiz!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, tightening his grasp, "you sure are +some class, Kid, in that stiff collar an' sporty tie. How's the stock +market? Are ye a bull or a bear?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, cut it out, Bud!" cried the lad, writhing.</p> + +<p>"Right-o, Kid, right-o!" said M'Ginnis, loosing his hold. "You're comin' +over t' O'Rourke's t'night, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, Bud—I can't."</p> + +<p>"Oh, t' hell wid that—I got you all fixed up to go ten rounds wid Young +Alf, th' East Side Wonder—"</p> + +<p>"What?" exclaimed Spike, his eyes bright and eager, "you got me a match +wi' Young Alf? Say, Bud—you ain't stringing me, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"Not much. I told you I'd get ye a real chance—"</p> + +<p>"Why," cried Spike, "if I was t' lick Young Alf, I'd be in line t' meet +th' top-notchers!"</p> + +<p>"Sure—if you lick him!" nodded M'Ginnis grimly.</p> + +<p>"Say," said Spike, his face radiant, "I've just been waitin' an' +waitin' for a chance like this—a chance t' show you an' th' bunch I can +handle myself, an' now"—he stopped all at once, and shaking his head +gloomily, turned away. "I forgot, I—I can't, Bud."</p> + +<p>"Aw, what's bitin' ye?"</p> + +<p>"I can't come t'night."</p> + +<p>"Won't come, ye mean!"</p> + +<p>"Can't, Bud."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I promised Hermy t' quit fightin'—"</p> + +<p>"Is that all? Hermy don't have t' know nothin' about it. This is a swell +chance for ye, Kid, the best you'll ever get, so just skin over t'night +an' don't say nothin' t' nobody."</p> + +<p>"I—can't, Bud—that's sure."</p> + +<p>"Goin' t' give me d' throw-down, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean it that ways, Bud, but I can't break my promise t' Hermy—"</p> + +<p>"She'd never know."</p> + +<p>"She'd find out some ways; she always does, and I can't lie t' her."</p> + +<p>"So you won't come, hey? We ain't classy enough for ye these days, hey? +I guess goin' to an office every day is one thing an' crackin' a +millionaire's crib's another."</p> + +<p>"Cheese it, Bud, cheese it!" gasped Spike, pale and trembling.</p> + +<p>"Right-o, Kid!" nodded M'Ginnis, "but I've been wantin' t' know how ye +made your get-away that night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, quit—quit talkin' of it!" Spike panted. "I—I want t' forget all +about it. I been tryin' t' think it never happened."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you know it did," said M'Ginnis, "an' I know it, an' Soapy +knows it did—don't yer, Soapy?"</p> + +<p>"'S' right!" nodded Soapy, his voice soft, his eyes hard and malevolent.</p> + +<p>"So we kinder want t' know," continued M'Ginnis, heedless always of +those baleful watching eyes, "we just want t' get on t' how you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, say—give it a rest!" cried Spike desperately. "Give it a rest, +can't ye?"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, Kid, what about comin' over t' O'Rourke's t'night?"</p> + +<p>Spike wrung his hands. "If Hermy finds out, she'll—cry, I guess—"</p> + +<p>"Hermy!" growled M'Ginnis, black brows fierce and scowling, "a hell of +a lot you care for Hermy, I—don't think!"</p> + +<p>"Say now, you Bud, whatcher mean?" demanded Spike, quivering with sudden +anger.</p> + +<p>"Just this, Kid—what kind of a brother are ye t' go lettin' that noo +pal o' yours—that guy you call Geoff—go sneaking round her morning, +noon, an' night?"</p> + +<p>"You cut that out, Bud M'Ginnis. Geoff don't! Geoff ain't that kind."</p> + +<p>"He don't, eh? Well, what about all this talk that's goin' on—about him +an' her, an' her an' him—eh?"</p> + +<p>"What talk?" demanded Spike, suddenly troubled.</p> + +<p>"Why, every one's beginnin' t' notice as they're always meetin' on th' +stairs—an' him goin' into her flat, an' them talkin' an' laughin' +together when you're out o' th' way—ah," growled M'Ginnis, between +grinding white teeth, "an' likely as not kissin' an' squeezin' in +corners—"</p> + +<p>"That's enough—that's enough!" cried the boy, fronting M'Ginnis, +fierce-eyed. "Nobody ain't goin' t' speak about Hermy that way."</p> + +<p>"Y' can't help it, Kid. Here's this guy Geoff, this pal o' yours—been +with her—in her flat with her, all th' mornin'—ain't he, Soapy?"</p> + +<p>"'S' right, Kid!" nodded that pallid individual, the smouldering +cigarette a-swing between pale lips; and, though he addressed Spike, his +furtive eyes, watching aslant between narrowed lids, glittered to behold +M'Ginnis's scowling brow; also the wolverine mouth curled faintly, so +that the pendulous cigarette stirred and quivered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm handin' ye the straight goods, Kid," M'Ginnis went on. "I'm +puttin' ye wise because you're my pal, an' because I've known Hermy an' +been kind o' soft about her since we was kids."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you know she—she ain't that sort," said Spike, his voice +quavering oddly. "So—don't you—say no more—see?"</p> + +<p>"All right, Kid, all right—only I don't like t' see this pal o' yours +gettin' in his dirty work behind your back. If anything happens—don't +blame me—"</p> + +<p>"What—what you tryin' t' tell me—you Bud?" questioned Spike, between +quivering lips.</p> + +<p>"I'm tellin' ye things are gettin' too warm—oh, Hermy ain't the icicle +she tries t' make out she is."</p> + +<p>"An' I'm tellin' you—you're a liar, Bud M'Ginnis—a dirty liar!" cried +the boy.</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis's bull neck swelled; between his thick, black brows a vein +swelled and pulsed. Viewing this, Soapy's glittering eyes blinked, and +the pendulous cigarette quivered faintly again.</p> + +<p>"Now by—" began M'Ginnis, lifting menacing fist; then his arm sank, and +he shook his big, handsome head. "Oh, pshaw!" he exclaimed, "I guess +you're all worked up, Kid, so I ain't takin' no notice. But savvy this, +Kid, if Hermy ain't goin' t' marry me on th' level, she ain't goin' t' +let this guy have her—the other way—not much! I guess you ain't +forgotten little Maggie Finlay? Well, watch out your pal Geoff don't +make Hermy go th' same."</p> + +<p>Uttering a wild, inarticulate cry, the lad sprang—to be caught in +M'Ginnis's powerful grasp, but, even so, his fist grazed M'Ginnis's +full-lipped mouth. For a moment Spike strove desperately to reach Bud's +grim-smiling face until, finding his efforts vain, he ceased all at +once, bowed his head upon his arms, and burst into a passion of bitter +sobbing; then, with an agile twist, he wrenched himself free, and +turning, sped away, heedless of his jaunty straw hat that had fallen and +lay upon the dusty sidewalk. Languidly Soapy stooped and picked it up.</p> + +<p>"His noo lid!" said he. "Only bought t'day, I reckon!"</p> + +<p>"Gee!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, staring after Spike's fleeing figure, already +far away, "he sure was some peevish!"</p> + +<p>"Some!" nodded Soapy. "If he'd happened t' have a gun handy, here's +where you'd have cashed in for good, I reckon. Yes, Bud, you'd be deader +'n' mutton!" sighed Soapy, turning Spike's hat around upon his finger. +"You'd be as dead as—little Maggie Finlay you was mentionin'!"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis wheeled so suddenly upon the speaker that he took a long +step backward, but he still spun Spike's hat upon his finger, and the +pendulous cigarette quivered quite noticeably. "Aw, quit it, Bud, quit +it!" he sighed. "You know I ain't th' kind o' guy it's healthy to punch +around promiscuous."</p> + +<p>"You mean if he'd missed, there was you, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I dunno, Bud, if it had been my sister—maybe—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know the sort o' dirty tyke you are, Soapy—but I'm awake—an' +I've got you, see? If anything was t' happen t' me, I've left +papers—proofs—'n' it 'ud be the chair for yours—savvy?"</p> + +<p>"Anyway, Bud, I—I haven't got a sister," said Soapy, juggling deftly +with the hat. "But there's one thing, Bud, th' guy who gets actin' Mr. +Freshy with Hermy is sure goin' to ante-up in kingdom come, if th' Kid's +around."</p> + +<p>"You're a dirty dog, Soapy, but you've got brains in your ugly dome, +I guess you're right about th' Kid, an' that gives me an almighty good +idea!" And M'Ginnis walked on awhile, deep in thought; and ever as he +went, so between those pale and puffy lids two malevolent eyes watched +and watched him.</p> + +<p>"No," sighed Soapy at last, sliding a long, pale hand into the pocket of +his smartly-tailored coat, "no, I ain't got a sister, Bud, but there was +little Maggie Finlay. I kind o' used t' think she was all t' th' harps +an' haloes. I used t' kind o' hope—but pshaw! she's dead—ain't she, +Bud?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so!" nodded M'Ginnis, yet deep in thought.</p> + +<p>"An' buried—ain't she, Bud?"</p> + +<p>"What th' hell!" exclaimed Bud, turning to stare, "what's bitin' ye?"</p> + +<p>"I'm wonderin' 'why', an' I'm likewise wonderin' 'who', Bud. Maybe I'll +find out for sure some day. I'm—waitin', Bud, waitin'. Goin' around t' +O'Rourke's, are ye? Oh, well, I guess I'll hike along wid ye, Bud."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH THE POISON BEGINS TO WORK</h3> + + +<p>Spike sat glowering at the newspaper, yet very conscious, none the less, +that Hermione often turned to glance at him wistfully as she bustled to +and fro; at last she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Arthur, dear—why so gloomy?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't—I mean, I'm not."</p> + +<p>"You're not sulking about anything?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then you're sick."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't enjoy your dinner a little bit."</p> + +<p>"I—I wasn't hungry, I guess," said Spike, frowning down at the paper. +But Hermione was beside him, her cool fingers caressing his curls.</p> + +<p>"Boy, dear—what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Say, Hermy, where'd you get them roses?" and he nodded to the flowers +she had set among her shining hair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey brought them."</p> + +<p>"Been here, has he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he came in with Ann this morning—why?"</p> + +<p>"Did he—did he stay long?"</p> + +<p>"N-o, I don't think so—why?"</p> + +<p>"Comes round here pretty often, don't he?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, he's your friend, dear, and we are very near neighbours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know all that, but—folks are beginning to—talk."</p> + +<p>Hermione's smooth brows were wrinkled faintly and her caressing hand had +fallen away.</p> + +<p>"To talk!" she repeated, "you mean about—me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" nodded Spike, avoiding her eyes, "about you and—him!"</p> + +<p>"Well—let them!" she answered gently, "you and Ann are all I care +about, so let them talk."</p> + +<p>"But I—I don't like folks t' talk about my sister, an' it's got t' +stop. You got t' tell him so, or else I will. What's he got t' go buying +ye flowers for, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Hermione's black brows knit in a sudden frown. "Arthur, don't be silly!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know you think I'm only a kid—but I ain't—I'm not. If you can't +take care of—of yourself, I must and—"</p> + +<p>"Arthur—stop!"</p> + +<p>"Well, but what's he always crawlin' around here for?"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't crawl—he couldn't," she cried in sudden anger; then in +gentler tones, "I don't think you'd better say any more, or maybe I +shall grow angry. If you have grown to think so—so badly of him, +remember I'm your sister."</p> + +<p>"But you're a girl, an' he's a man an'—"</p> + +<p>"Stop it!" Hermione stamped her foot, and meeting her flashing glance, +Spike wilted and—stopped it. So, while he glowered at the paper again, +Hermione put away the dinner things, making more clatter about it than +was usual, and turning now and then to glance at him from under her long +lashes.</p> + +<p>"Where did you meet M'Ginnis as you came home, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"At the corner of—say, who told you I met him?"</p> + +<p>"You did."</p> + +<p>"I never said a word about meetin' him."</p> + +<p>"No, but you've been telling me what he told you. Only M'Ginnis could be +vile enough to dare say such things about me. Oh, Arthur, for shame—how +can you listen to that brute beast—for shame!"</p> + +<p>Now, meeting the virginal purity of those eyes, Spike felt his cheeks +burn, and he wriggled in his chair.</p> + +<p>"Bud only told me Geoff had been—been here," he stammered, "and I +guess it was the truth—I—I mean—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, boy, for shame!" and turning about, she swept from the room, her +head carried very high, leaving him crouched in his chair, his nervous +fingers twisting and turning a small box in his pocket—the box that +held the forgotten hair-comb. He was still sitting miserably thus when +he heard a knock on the outer door and a moment later a woman's voice, +querulous and high-pitched.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Hermy, my Martin's very bad t'night, an' I got t' go out, an' +I can't leave him alone; would ye mind comin' down an' sittin' with him +for a bit?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I will."</p> + +<p>"Y' see, since he had th' stroke, he's sorrered for our little +Maggie—he was hard on her, y' see, an' since she—she died—he's been +grievin' for her. Had himself laid in her little room—seemed to comfort +him somehow. But to-day, when he heard we had to leave because th' rent +was rose, it nigh broke his poor heart. An' I got to go out, an' I can't +leave him alone, so—if y' wouldn't mind, Miss Hermy—"</p> + +<p>"Just a moment—I'll come right now." As she spoke, Hermione reentered +the kitchen, untying her apron as she came. Spike sat watching, waiting, +yearning for a word, but without even a glance Hermione turned and left +him. When he was alone, he started to his feet and tearing the box from +his pocket dashed it fiercely to the floor; then as suddenly picked it +up, and approaching the open window, drew back his hand to hurl it out +and so stood, staring into the face that had risen to view beyond the +window ledge, a round face with two very round eyes, a round button of +a nose, and a wide mouth just now up-curving in a grin.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you, Larry, what you hangin' around here for?" demanded Spike, +slipping the box into his pocket again. "What you doin' on our fire +escape, hey?"</p> + +<p>"Brought back yer roof!" replied the lad.</p> + +<p>"Well, where is it?"</p> + +<p>"Here it is." And climbing astride the window sill, Larry handed in the +jaunty straw.</p> + +<p>"Where'd you find it?"</p> + +<p>"Bud give it me, 'n' say—"</p> + +<p>"All right," nodded Spike, dusting the straw tenderly with a +handkerchief. "Now git, I wanter be alone."</p> + +<p>"But, say, Kid, Bud says I was ter say as he's sorry for what he said, +'n' say, he says you'd better be gettin' over t' O'Rourke's, 'n' say—"</p> + +<p>"I ain't comin'!"</p> + +<p>"But say, you're t' fight Young Alf, 'n' say—"</p> + +<p>"I ain't comin'!"</p> + +<p>"But say, dere's a lot of our money on ye—I got two plunks meself, 'n' +say, you just gotter fight anyway. Bud says so—"</p> + +<p>"I can't help what Bud says; I ain't comin'."</p> + +<p>"Not comin'!" exclaimed Larry, his eyes rounder than ever.</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>Larry's wide mouth curved in a slow grin, and he nodded his +close-cropped head; said he:</p> + +<p>"Say, Kiddo, you know Young Alf's a punishin' fighter, I guess; you know +as nobody's never stopped him yet, don't yer; you know as you're givin' +him six pounds—say, you ain't—scared, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"Scared?" repeated Spike, frowning. "Do I look like I was scared? You +know there ain't any guy I'm scared of—but I promised Hermy—"</p> + +<p>"Pip-pip!" grinned Larry. "Say, if you don't turn up t'night, d'ye know +what d' bunch'll say? Dey'll say you're a—quitter!"</p> + +<p>"Well, don't you say it, that's all!" said Spike, laying aside his hat +and clenching his fists.</p> + +<p>"Not me!" grinned Larry. "There'll be plenty to do that, I guess—dey'd +call it after ye in d' streets—dey'll give ye th' ha! ha! Dey'll say +Hermy Chesterton's brother's a quitter—a quitter!"</p> + +<p>For a long moment Spike stood with bent head and hands tightly +clenched, then crossing to the sideboard, he picked up his shabby cap.</p> + +<p>"Who's in my corner?"</p> + +<p>"Now you're talkin', Kiddo; I know as you—"</p> + +<p>"Who's in my corner?"</p> + +<p>"Bud an' Lefty, 'n' say, I guess they can handle you all right, eh? 'N' +say, come on, let's cop a sneak before any one butts in—d' fire escape +for ours, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Sure!" said Spike, climbing through the window. "Oh, there ain't nobody +goin' t' call Hermy Chesterton's brother a quitter."</p> + +<p>"You bet there ain't!" grinned Larry, "come on, Kid!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>OF AN EXPEDITION BY NIGHT</h3> + + +<p>"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, what you settin' here in the dark for?"</p> + +<p>"Is it dark, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>"My land! Can't you see as it's too dark t' see, and—oh, shucks, Mr. +Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Mrs. Trapes! But can't you see that the whole world—my +world, anyway—is full of a refulgent glory, a magic light where nothing +mean or sordid can possibly be, a light that my eyes never saw till now +nor hoped to see, a radiance that may never fail, I hope—a—er—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on, Mr. Geoffrey, go on. Only I guess I'll light the gas jest +the same, if you don't mind!" Which Mrs. Trapes did forthwith. "But what +was you a-doin' of all alone in the dark?"</p> + +<p>"Glorying in life, Mrs. Trapes, and praising the good God for health and +strength to enjoy it and the fulness thereof—"</p> + +<p>"'Fulness thereof' meanin' jest what, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"The most beautiful thing in a beautiful world, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"An' that's Hermy, I s'pose. An' all that talk o' glory an' radiance an' +magic light means as you've been an' spoke, I guess?"</p> + +<p>"It does."</p> + +<p>"An' what did she say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Nothin'?"</p> + +<p>"Not with her lips, but—"</p> + +<p>"Oh—her eyes, was it? Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell you what—a girl may +look 'yes' with her eyes a whole week an' say 'no' with her mouth jest +once and mean 'no'—when it's to a peanut man—Lordy Lord! what's that?" +And Mrs. Trapes jumped as a hand rapped softly on the door, and stared +horrified to see a human head protrude itself into the room while a +voice said:</p> + +<p>"Da Signorina she out, so me come tell-a you piece-a-da-noos—"</p> + +<p>"Why, if it ain't that blessed guinney! Go away—what d'ye want?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Tony flashed his white teeth, and opening the door, bowed with +his inimitable grace, grew solemn, tapped his nose, winked knowingly, +and laid finger to lip.</p> + +<p>"My land!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring. "What's the matter with the +Eyetalian iji't now?"</p> + +<p>"Spike—he go make-a-da-fight!" whispered Tony hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"Eh—Arthur fightin'—where?"</p> + +<p>"He go make-a-da-box—he drink-a-da-booze, den he walk-a—so! Den da +Signorina she-a-cry—"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "you mean as that b'y's off boxin' again?"</p> + +<p>"Si, si—he go make-a-da-box-fight."</p> + +<p>"Is he over at O'Rourke's, Tony?" enquired Ravenslee, sitting upright.</p> + +<p>"I bet-a-my-life, yes—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clasping bony hands. "If they +bring him home drunk like they did last time!"</p> + +<p>"They shan't do that, Mrs. Trapes. Don't worry, I'll go and fetch him," +said Ravenslee, getting to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Fetch him? From O'Rourke's? Are ye crazy? You'd get half-killed like as +not. Oh, they're a bad, ugly lot down there!"</p> + +<p>"I feel rather ugly myself," said Ravenslee, looking around for the +shabby hat; "anyway, I'm going to see."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, if you're goin' t' venture among that lot, you take this +with ye, Mr. Geoffrey," and she thrust the poker into his hand. "You'll +sure need it—ah, do now!" But Ravenslee laughed and set it aside. +"You'd better take it, Mr. Geoffrey; fists is fists, but gimme a +poker—every time! A poker ain't t' be sneezed at! What, goin'—an' +empty-'anded? Mr. Geoffrey, I'm surprised at you. Think of Hermy!"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I am doing."</p> + +<p>"Well, s'posin' they hurt you! What'll Hermy do?"</p> + +<p>"You think she'd mind, then, though I'm—only a peanut man?"</p> + +<p>"Even a peanut man's a feller creatur, ain't he—an' Hermy's 'eart is +very tender an'—oh, shucks, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess you know she'd jest +be crazy if you was hurt bad!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said Ravenslee, smiling and taking up the battered hat, +"I'll take great care of myself—trust me!"</p> + +<p>"Then good-by, Mr. Geoffrey, good-by and—the good Lord go with you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee and followed Tony out upon the +stair. Upon one of the many landings the young Italian paused.</p> + +<p>"Me put-a-you wise, Geoff; you savvy where-a to find Spike, now me go +back t' my lil Pietro, yes. S' long, pal, 'n' good-a luck!"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee hastened on down-stairs, returning neighbourly nods and +greetings as he went, but staying for none, and so, crossing the court, +turned into the avenue. On the corner he beheld the Spider, hard at work +on his eternal chewing gum, cap drawn low and hands in pockets. Seeing +Ravenslee, he nodded and lurched forward.</p> + +<p>"What's doin', Geoff?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"I'm off to O'Rourke's—coming?"</p> + +<p>"Not much! An' say, 't ain't worth your trouble—I ain't fightin'. +Nawthin' but a lot o' fifth-raters."</p> + +<p>"I'm going over to fetch Spike."</p> + +<p>"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, his square jaws immobile from sheer +astonishment. "Say, you ain't crazy, are ye—I mean you ain't dippy or +cracked in the dome, are ye? Because d' Kid's goin' ten rounds with +Young Alf, d' East Side Wonder, t'night, see?"</p> + +<p>"Not if I can help it, Spider."</p> + +<p>"Aw—come off, bo! D'ye think Bud'll let him go?"</p> + +<p>"I shan't ask Bud—or any one else."</p> + +<p>"Meanin' as you'll walk right in on Bud's tough bunch an' cop out d' Kid +on y'r lonesome—eh?"</p> + +<p>"I shall try."</p> + +<p>"Then you sure are crazy; if y'r dome ain't cracked yet, it's sure goin' +t' be. Why, Bud 'n' his crowd'll soak you good 'n' plenty 'n' chuck ye +out again quicker'n ye went in. They will sure, bo—if you go—"</p> + +<p>"I'm wondering if you'll come along and help?" said Ravenslee lazily.</p> + +<p>"Me? Not so's you could notice it. I ain't huntin' that sort o' trouble."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if you think you'd—er—better not, I'll go alone."</p> + +<p>"What, yer goin', are ye?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! You see, Spike is my friend; consequently his trouble +is my trouble. Good night, Spider, and whatever else you do, be sure +to—er—take good care of yourself!" And Ravenslee smiled and turned +away; but he had not gone six paces before the Spider was at his elbow.</p> + +<p>"Say, bo," said he, "I don't like the way you smile, but you talk so +soft an' pretty, I guess I'll jest have t' come along t' gather up what +they leave of ye."</p> + +<p>"Spider," said Ravenslee, "shake!" The Spider obeyed, somewhat +shamefacedly to be sure.</p> + +<p>"It looks like two domes bein' cracked 'stead o' one, an' all along o' +that fool-kid!" Having said which, he lurched on beside Ravenslee, +chewing voraciously.</p> + +<p>"How you goin' t' work it?" he enquired suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet."</p> + +<p>"Hully Chee! You've sure gotcher nerve along. There's some o' the +toughest guys in little Manhattan Village at O'Rourke's dump t'night, +keepin' th' ring an' fair achin' for trouble."</p> + +<p>"We must dodge 'em, Spider."</p> + +<p>"S'pose we can't?"</p> + +<p>"Then we must trust our luck, and I've got a hunch we shall get Spike +away somehow before Mr. Flowers dopes him or makes him drunk; anyway +we'll try. The dressing rooms are behind the annex, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Know the place, do ye?"</p> + +<p>"I've looked it over. We can get in behind the annex, can't we?"</p> + +<p>"In?" repeated the Spider, smiling grimly. "Oh, we'll get in all right; +what gets my goat is how we're goin' t' get out again. You sure are a +bird for takin' chances, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Life is made up of chances, Spider, and there are two kinds of +men—those who take them joyfully and those who don't."</p> + +<p>"Well, say, you can scratch me on the joyful business. I'm th' guy as +only takes chances he's paid t' take."</p> + +<p>"How much are you getting on this job, Spider?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—well—I mean—say, what's th' time, bo?"</p> + +<p>"Five minutes after eight—why?"</p> + +<p>"I guess d' Kid's in th' ring, then. There's a full card t'night, an' +he's scheduled for eight sharp, so I reckon he's fightin' now—an' good +luck to him!" By this time they had reached that dark and quiet +neighbourhood where stood O'Rourke's saloon. But to-night the big annex +glared with light, and the air about it was full of a dull, hoarse, +insistent clamour that swelled all at once to a chorus of discordant +shrieks and frenzied cries.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" quoth the Spider sagely, "hark to 'em howl! That means some guy's +gettin' his, alright. Listen to 'em; they love t' get blood for their +entrance money, an' they're sure gettin' it. Some one's bein' knocked +out—come on!"</p> + +<p>It was a dark night, for there was no moon and the stars were hidden; +thus, as Ravenslee followed the Spider, he found himself stumbling over +the uneven ground of a vacant lot, a lonely place beyond which lay the +distant river. At last they reached various outbuildings, looming up +ugly and ungainly in the dimness.</p> + +<p>"Say, bo," said the Spider, stopping suddenly at a small and narrow +door, "you'd best wait here and lemme go first."</p> + +<p>"No, we'll go together."</p> + +<p>"Right-o, only be ready to make a quick get-away!"</p> + +<p>So saying, the Spider opened the door and, closely followed by +Ravenslee, stepped into a dimly-lit passage thick with the blue vapour +of cigars and cigarettes. It was a long, narrow corridor, bare and +uncarpeted, seeming to run the length of the building; on one hand was +a row of dingy windows and on the other were several doors, from behind +which came the sound of many voices that talked and sang and swore +together, a very babel.</p> + +<p>At the end of this passage was yet another door which gave upon a small +room that contained a rickety sofa, a chair, and a battered desk; a +kerosene lamp suspended against the wall burned dimly, and it was into +this chamber that the Spider ushered Ravenslee somewhat hastily; the +Spider's eyes were very bright, and he chewed rather more fiercely than +usual.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said he, "this place ain't exactly a bed o' roses for a strange +guy like you. Y' see, this is Bud's own stampin'-ground, an' the whole +bunch is here t'night, and most of 'em are heeled. Soapy an' Bud always +tote guns, I know. So I guess you'd better mark time here a bit while I +chase around an' locate th' Kid. If any one asks what you're doin' +around here, say as you come in with me. But, bo"—and here the Spider +laid an impressive hand on Ravenslee's arm—"if you should happen t' see +Bud, well, don't stop to look twice but beat it—let it be th' door or +winder for yours—only—beat it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I know Bud's got it in fer you; I heard him say—oh, well, if +his gun should go off—accidental-like, this place ain't exactly +Broadway or Fifth Av'noo, bo—see?"</p> + +<p>"I see!" nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" said Spider, and crossing to the window, he unlatched it +stealthily and lifted it high, "if I ain't back inside of ten minutes, +bo, nip out through here and hike; wait for me at the lamp-post across +the lot over there—it'll be safer. D'ye get me?"</p> + +<p>"I do!" nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"I guess you'd be less of a fool if you was to get out now an' +wait—outside!" Spider suggested.</p> + +<p>Ravenslee shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I'll wait here," said he, "there are times when I can be as big a fool +as the next, Spider, and this is one of them."</p> + +<p>"That's so!" nodded the Spider, and chewing viciously, he turned and was +gone, to be hailed a few minutes later in uproarious greeting by many +discordant voices which died slowly to a droning hum above which came +sounds more distant, shouts and cheers from the auditorium.</p> + +<p>Left alone, Ravenslee looked about him, and then espied a newspaper that +lay upon the desk. Idly taking it up, his gaze was attracted by these +words, printed in large black letters:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL RUN TO EARTH JACOB HEINE THE GUN-MAN ARRESTED IN +JERSEY CITY</p></div> + +<p>Below in small type he read this:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Jacob Heine, believed to be the perpetrator of several mysterious +shooting affrays, and member of a dangerous West Side gang, was +arrested to-day.</p></div> + +<p>The light being dim, Ravenslee drew closer to the lamp, and standing +thus against the light, his face was in shadow—also his long figure +was silhouetted upon the opposite wall, plain to be seen by any one +opening the door. Suddenly, as he stood with head bent above the paper, +this door opened suddenly, and M'Ginnis entered; he also held a paper, +and now he spoke without troubling to lift his scowling gaze from the +printed column he was scanning:</p> + +<p>"That you, Lefty? Here's a hell of a mix-up—that dog-gone fool Heine's +got himself pinched—and in Jersey City too! I told him t' stay around +here till things was quiet! It's goin' t' be a hell of a job t' fix +things for him over there—'t ain't like N' York. But we got t' fix +things for him or chance him squealing on th' rest of us, but what beats +me is—"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis's teeth clicked together, and the paper tore suddenly between +his hands as, glancing up at last, he beheld two keen, grey eyes that +watched him and a mouth, grim and close-lipped, that curled in the smile +Spider didn't like.</p> + +<p>For a long, tense moment they stood motionless, eye to eye, then, +reaching behind him, M'Ginnis locked the door, and drawing out the key, +thrust it into his pocket.</p> + +<p>"So—I got ye at last—have I?" said he slowly.</p> + +<p>"And I've got you," said Ravenslee pleasantly; "we seem to have got each +other, don't we?"</p> + +<p>"See here, you," said M'Ginnis, his massive shoulders squared, his big +chin viciously outthrust, "you're goin' t' leave Mulligan's, see?"</p> + +<p>"Am I?" said Ravenslee, lounging upon a corner of the battered desk.</p> + +<p>"You sure are," nodded M'Ginnis. "Hell's Kitchen ain't big enough for +you an' me, I guess; you're goin' because I say so, an' you're goin' +t'night!"</p> + +<p>"You surprise me!" said Ravenslee sleepily.</p> + +<p>"You're goin' t' quit Hell's Kitchen for good and—you ain't comin' +back!"</p> + +<p>"You amaze me!" and Ravenslee yawned behind his hand.</p> + +<p>"An' now you're goin' t' listen why an' wherefore—if you can keep +awake a minute!"</p> + +<p>"I'll try, Mr. Flowers, I'll try."</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis thrust clenched hands into his pockets and surveyed Ravenslee +with scornful eyes—his lounging figure and stooping shoulders, his +long, white hands and general listless air.</p> + +<p>"God!" he exclaimed, "that she should trouble t' look twice at such a +nancy-boy!" and he spat, loud and contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"Almost think you're trying to be rude, Mr. Flowers."</p> + +<p>"Aw—I couldn't be, to a—thing like you! An' see here—me name's +M'Ginnis!"</p> + +<p>"But then," sighed Ravenslee, "I prefer to call you Flowers—a fair name +for a foul thing—"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis made a swift step forward and halted, hard-breathing and +menacing.</p> + +<p>"How much?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Fair name for a very foul thing, Mr. Flowers," repeated Ravenslee, +glancing up at him from under slumberous, drooping lids—"anyway, +Flowers you will remain!"</p> + +<p>As they stared again, eye to eye, M'Ginnis edged nearer and nearer, head +thrust forward, until Ravenslee could see the cords that writhed and +swelled in his big throat, and he hitched forward a languid shoulder. +"Don't come any nearer, Flowers," said he, "and don't stick out your jaw +like that—don't do it; I might be tempted to try to—er—hit it!"</p> + +<p>"What—you?" said M'Ginnis, and laughed hoarsely, while Ravenslee yawned +again.</p> + +<p>"An' now, Mr. Butt-in, if you're still awake—listen here. I guess it's +about time you stopped foolin' around Hermy Chesterton—an' you're goin' +t' quit—see!" Ravenslee's eyes flashed suddenly, then drooped as +M'Ginnis continued: "So you're goin' t' sit down right here, an' you're +goin' t' write a nice little note of farewell, an' you're goin' t' tell +her as you love her an' leave her because I say so—see? Ah!" he cried, +suddenly hoarse and anger-choked, "d' ye think I'll let Hermy look at a +thing like you—do ye?—do ye?" and he waited. Ravenslee sat utterly +still, and when at last he spoke his voice sounded even more gentle than +before.</p> + +<p>"My good Flowers, there is just one thing you shall not do, and that is, +speak her name in my hearing. You're not fit to, and, Mr. Flowers, I'll +not permit it."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" snarled M'Ginnis, "well, then, listen some more. I know as +you're always hangin' around her flat, and if Hermy don't care about +losing her good name—"</p> + +<p>Even as Ravenslee's long arm shot out, M'Ginnis side-stepped the blow, +and Ravenslee found himself staring into the muzzle of a revolver.</p> + +<p>"Ah—I thought so!" he breathed, and shrank away.</p> + +<p>"Kind of alters things, don't it?" enquired M'Ginnis, hoarse and +jeering. "Well, if you don't want it to go off, sit down an' write Hermy +as pretty a little note as you can—no, shut that window first."</p> + +<p>Silent and speechless, Ravenslee crossed to the window and drew down the +sash, in doing which he noticed a dark something that crouched beneath +the sill.</p> + +<p>"An' now," said M'Ginnis, leaning against a corner of the desk, "sit +down here, nice an' close, an' write that letter—there's pen an' ink +an' paper—an' quick about it or by—"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis sprang up and turned as the glass of the window splintered to +fragments, and, almost with the crash, Ravenslee leapt—a fierce twist, +a vicious wrench, and the deadly weapon had changed hands.</p> + +<p>"Lucky it didn't go off," said Ravenslee, smiling grimly at the revolver +he held, "others might have heard, and, Mr. Flowers, I want to be alone +with you just a little longer. Of course, I might shoot you for the +murderous beast you are, or I might walk you over to the nearest police +depot for the crook I think you are—but—oh, well, of late I've been +yearning to get my hands on you and so"—Ravenslee turned and pitched +the revolver through the broken window. But, almost as the weapon left +his hand, M'Ginnis was upon him, and, reeling from the blow, Ravenslee +staggered blindly across the room, till stayed by the wall, and sank +there, crouched and groaning, his face hidden in his hands.</p> + +<p>With a cry hoarse and fierce, M'Ginnis followed and stooped, eager to +make an end—stooped to be met by two fierce hands, sure hands and +strong, that grasped his silken neckerchief as this crouching figure +rose suddenly erect. So for a wild, panting moment they grappled, +swaying grimly to and fro, while ever the silken neckerchief was twisted +tight and tighter. Choking now, M'Ginnis felt fingers on his naked +throat, iron fingers that clutched cruelly, and in this painful grip was +whirled, choking, against the wall and thence borne down and down. And +now M'Ginnis, lying helpless across his opponent's knee, stared up into +a face pale but grimly joyous, lips that curled back from gnashing white +teeth—eyes that glared merciless. So Ravenslee bent M'Ginnis back +across his knee and choked him there awhile, then suddenly relaxed his +hold and let M'Ginnis sink, gasping, to the floor.</p> + +<p>"A little—rough, Mr. Flowers," he panted, "a trifle—rough with you—I +fear—but I want you—to know that you—shall not utter—her name—in my +presence. Now the key—I prefer door to window—the key, Mr. +Flowers—ah, here it is!" So saying, Ravenslee stood upright, and wiping +blood and sweat from him with his sleeve, turned to the door. "One other +thing, Mr. Flowers; have the goodness to take off your neckerchief next +time, or I—may strangle you outright."</p> + +<p>Halfway down the passage Ravenslee turned to see Murder close on his +heels. Once he smote and twice, but nothing might stay that bull-like +rush and, locked in a desperate clinch, he was borne back and back, +their trampling lost in the universal din about them, as reeling, +staggering, they crashed out through wrecked and splintered door and, +still locked together, were swallowed in the night beyond.</p> + +<p>Thus the Spider, crouching in the dark beneath the broken window with +Spike beside him, was presently aware of the sickening sounds of furious +struggling close at hand, and of a hoarse, panting voice that cursed in +fierce triumph—a voice that ended all at once in a ghastly strangling +choke; and recognising this voice, the Spider hunched his great +shoulders and bore Spike to a remote spot where stood a solitary +lamp-post. Here he waited, calm-eyed and chewing placidly, one arm about +the fretful Spike.</p> + +<p>Presently Ravenslee joined them; the shabby hat was gone, and there was +a smear of blood upon his cheek, also he laboured in his breathing, but +his eyes were joyous.</p> + +<p>"Bo, what about Bud?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's lying around somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Hully Chee—d' ye mean—"</p> + +<p>"He tried gouging first, but I expected that; then he tried to throttle +me, but I throttled a little harder. He's an ugly customer, as you said, +but"—Ravenslee laughed and glanced at his bloody knuckles—"I don't +think he'll be keen to rough it with me again just yet."</p> + +<p>"Bo, I guess you can be pretty ugly too—say, when you laugh that way I +feel—kind of sorry for Bud."</p> + +<p>"Why, what's wrong with Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Dunno—I guess they've been slinging dope into him. And he's copped it +pretty bad from Young Alf too—look at that eye!"</p> + +<p>"Spike!" said Ravenslee, shaking him, "Spike, what is it? Buck up, old +fellow!" But Spike only stared dazedly and moaned.</p> + +<p>"It's dope all right," nodded the Spider, "or else Bud's mixed th' +drinks on him."</p> + +<p>"Damn him!" said Ravenslee softly. "I wish I'd throttled a little +harder!"</p> + +<p>"I guess you give Bud all he needs for the present," said Spider grimly, +"anyway, I'm goin' t' see. The Kid ain't hurt none. Get him home t' bed, +an' he'll be all right s'long, long, Geoff."</p> + +<p>"Good night, Spider, and—thank you. Oh, by the way, who's Heine?"</p> + +<p>"Heine's a Deutscher, Geoff. Heine's about as clean as dirt an' as +straight as a corkscrew; why, he'd shoot his own mother if y' paid him, +like he did—but say, what d' you know about him, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Well, for one thing, I know he's been arrested in Jersey City—"</p> + +<p>"Heine? Pinched? Say, bo, what yer givin' us—who says so?"</p> + +<p>"Bud, and—"</p> + +<p>But the Spider, waiting for no more, had turned about and was running +back across the open lot.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>HOW M'GINNIS THREATENED AND—WENT</h3> + + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, prayer is a wonderful prop to a anxious 'eart!" said Mrs. +Trapes, leaning over the banisters to greet him as he ascended. "Mr. +Geoffrey, my hands has been lifted in prayer for ye this night as so did +me behoove, and here you are safe back with—that b'y. A prayer prayed +proper, and prayed by them as ain't plaguein' the Lord constant about +their souls an' other diseases, is always dooly regarded. Yes, sir, a +occasional petition is always heard and worketh wonders as the—my land, +Mr. Geoffrey, look at your face!"</p> + +<p>"I know, Mrs. Trapes. Has she come in yet?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet—an' glad I am. You're all bleedin'—stoop your head a +bit—there!" and very tenderly she staunched the cut below the curly +hair with an apron clean and spotless as usual. "And the b'y—lord, +what's come to him?"</p> + +<p>"A black eye—two, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I'll look after him and get him +into bed before she comes; can you keep her away till I've done so?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try. Poor lad!" she sighed, touching Spike's drooping head with +bony fingers, "if she wasn't his sister, I'd be sorry for him!"</p> + +<p>So Ravenslee took Spike in hand, bathing his bruised and battered +features and setting ice water to his puffy lips, which the lad gulped +thirstily. Thereafter he revived quickly but grew only the more morose +and sulky.</p> + +<p>"All right," he muttered, "I'll go t' bed, only—leave me, see!"</p> + +<p>"Can't I help you?"</p> + +<p>"No—you lemme alone. Oh, I know—you think I'm soused, but I ain't; +I—I'm not drunk, I tell ye—I wish I was. I ain't no kid, so lemme +alone—an' I ain't drunk. What if me legs is shaky? So 'ud yours be if +you'd got—what I got. It was dat last swing t' d' jaw as done me—but +I ain't drunk 'n' I ain't a kid t' be undressed—so chase ye'self an' +lemme alone!"</p> + +<p>"All right, Spike—only get to bed like a good chap before your sister +comes."</p> + +<p>"You leave my sister alone; she ain't—that kind, an' she ain't fer you, +anyway."</p> + +<p>"That will do, Arthur—get into bed! I'll give you five minutes!" So +saying, Ravenslee turned away, but, as he closed the door, his quick ear +detected the clink of glass, and turning, he saw Spike draw a small +flask from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Give me that stuff, old fellow."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can't con me! I ain't a kid, so you lemme alone!" and Spike +raised the flask to his lips, but in that instant it was snatched away. +Spike staggered back to the wall and leaned there, passing his hand to +and fro across his brow as though dazed, then stumbled out into the room +beyond.</p> + +<p>"Gimme it, Geoff, gimme it!" he panted, "you won't keep it, no, no—Bud +slipped it to me after I come to. Gimme it, Geoff. I want t' forget—so +be a sport an' give it me—you will, won't ye?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee shook his head, whereat the boy broke out more passionately:</p> + +<p>"Oh—don't ye see, Geoff—can't ye understand? I—I was knocked out +t'night—I took th' count! I—I'm done for, I had me chance, an' I +didn't make good! I—didn't—make good!" As he spoke, the lad hid his +bruised face within his hands, while great sobs shook him.</p> + +<p>"Why, Spike! Why, Arthur, old chap—never mind—"</p> + +<p>"Gimme th' bottle, Geoff! Be a pal an' gimme th' stuff—I want t' +forget!"</p> + +<p>"This wouldn't help you."</p> + +<p>"Give it me, d' ye hear—I want it—I'll have it, anyway—I'll—" +Spike's voice failed, and cowering back, he sank into a chair at sight +of her who stood within the doorway so very silent and pale of lip.</p> + +<p>"Ah, don't, Hermy—don't look at me like that," he whispered. "Your eyes +hurt me! I ain't drunk—this time!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, boy!" she sighed, "oh, boy—after all your promises!"</p> + +<p>Spike rose with hands stretched out appealingly, but even so, he swayed +slightly, and seeing this, she shivered.</p> + +<p>"Is it th' fightin' you mean, Hermy? Why, I did it all for you, Hermy, +all for you—I wanted t' be a champion 'cause all champions are rich. +I wanted t' make you a real lady—t' take you away from Mulligan's—but +now—I'm only—a 'has-been.' I've lost me chance—oh, Hermy, I'm done +for; I—oh, Geoff, I—think I'll—go to bed."</p> + +<p>So Ravenslee set down the flask, and, clasping an arm about Spike's +swaying form, led him from the room, while Hermione stood rigid and +watched them go. But when the door had closed behind them, she bowed her +head upon her hands and sobbed miserably, until, spying the half-emptied +flask through her tears, she sprang forward, and snatching it from the +table, dashed it passionately to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear God of Heaven!" she whispered, sinking to her knees, "not that +way—ah, save him from that—keep him from treading that path!" With +head bowed upon her folded hands she knelt thus awhile until a sound in +the passage aroused her, and rising to her feet, she turned and +confronted Bud M'Ginnis.</p> + +<p>He stood upon the threshold, and though his glowing, eager eyes dwelt +yearningly upon her beauty, he made no motion to enter the room. Upon +one cheek the skin was torn and grazed from nose to ear, and upon his +powerful throat were vivid marks that showed fierce and red, and these +seemed to worry him, for even while he stared upon her loveliness, his +hand stole up to his neck, and he touched these glowing blotches gently +with his fingers.</p> + +<p>"God, Hermy," said he at last, "you get more beautiful every day!"</p> + +<p>She was silent, but reading the fierce scorn in her eyes, he laughed +softly and leaned nearer. "Some day, Hermy, you'll be—all mine! Oh, I +can wait; there's others, an' you're worth waitin' for, I guess. But +some day you'll come t' me—you shall—you must! Meantime there's +others, but some day it'll be you an' you only—when you're my wife. Ah, +marry me, Hermy; I could give you all you want, an' there'd never be any +one else for me—then!"</p> + +<p>Her eyes still met his unflinchingly, only she drew away from his +nearness, shivering a little; seeing which, he frowned and clenched one +hand, for the other had wandered up to his throat again.</p> + +<p>"Won't ye speak t' me?" he demanded savagely, then shrugging his great +shoulders, he continued in gentler tones: "I ain't here t' quarrel, +Hermy; I only came t' see if th' Kid got home all right." Hermione's +firm, red lips remained tightly closed. "Did he?" Hermione slowly +inclined her head.</p> + +<p>"Say now, Hermy," he went on, and his voice grew almost wheedling, +"there was a guy here the other night—a stranger, I guess—one o' these +tired, sleepy guys—one o' the reg'lar soft-talkin' nancy-boys—who is +he?" Hermione only sighed wearily, whereat his voice grew hoarse with +passion, and he questioned her fiercely: "Who is he, eh—who is he? What +was he doin' around here, anyway? Well, can't ye talk? Can't ye speak?"</p> + +<p>Hermione only looked at him, and before those calm, fearless eyes, +M'Ginnis burned in a wild yet impotent rage.</p> + +<p>"Won't talk, hey?" he questioned between grinding teeth. "Well, now, see +here, Hermy. If you let this guy come any love business with you behind +me back, it'll be his finish—an' he can blame you for it! An' see here +again—watch out for young Arthur. Oh!" he cried, seeing her flinch, +"you think you've got the Kid tied to ye, you think you've got him, I +guess—but you ain't! I've got him—right here!" and holding out his +hand, M'Ginnis slowly clenched it into a fist. "I've got th' Kid, +see—an' he's goin' th' way I want him—he's got to, see?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she cried, her scorn and fearless pride shattered to trembling +pleading at last. "What do you mean—oh, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean as I want ye, an' I'm goin' to have ye!" he answered. "I mean +that instead of 'no' you're goin' t' give me 'yes'—for th' Kid's sake!"</p> + +<p>"What do you—mean?" she said again between quivering lips, her eyes +full of a growing terror.</p> + +<p>"Mean?" he continued relentlessly, viewing her trembling loveliness with +hungry eyes. "Well—that's what I mean!" and he pointed to the broken +flask upon the floor. "If you want t' see it in his face more an' more, +if you want t' smell it in his breath—say 'No!' If you want t' see his +hands begin t' shake, if you want t' hear his foot come stumbling up th' +stair—say 'No!' I guess you remember what it's like—you've seen it all +before. Well, if ye want Arthur t' grow into what his drunken father was +before him—say 'No!'"</p> + +<p>"Go away!" she moaned, "go away!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll go, but first I'll tell you this—"</p> + +<p>"I think not, Mr. Flowers—no, I'm sure you won't!"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee's voice was soft and pleasant as usual, but before the burning +ferocity of his eyes, the merciless line of that grim, implacable mouth, +before all the hush and deadly purpose of him, the loud hectoring of +M'Ginnis seemed a thing of no account. Beholding his pale, set face +Hermione, sighing deeply, shrank away; even M'Ginnis blenched as, very +slowly, Ravenslee approached him, speaking softly the while.</p> + +<p>"Get out, Mr. Flowers, get out! Don't say another word—no, not one, if +only because of 'that dog-gone fool Heine!' Now go, or so help me God, +this time—I'll kill you!"</p> + +<p>Hermione leaned her trembling body against the table for support. And +yet—could it be fear that had waked this new glory in her eyes, had +brought this glowing colour to her cheek, had made her sweet breath pant +and hurry so—fear?</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis stood rigid, watching Ravenslee advance; suddenly he tried to +speak yet uttered no word; he raised a fumbling hand to his bruised and +swollen throat, striving again for speech but choked instead, and, +uttering a sound, hoarse and inarticulate, he swung upon his heel and +strode blindly away.</p> + +<p>Then Ravenslee turned to find Hermione sunk down beside the table, her +burning face hidden between her arms, her betraying eyes fast shut.</p> + +<p>"You are tired," he said gently, "that damned—er—I should say Mr. +Flowers and—other unpleasant things have upset you, haven't they?"</p> + +<p>Hermione made a motion of assent, and Ravenslee continued, softer than +before:</p> + +<p>"I wanted you to make up your mind to come away to-night, but—I can't +ask you now, can I? It—it wouldn't be—er—the thing, would it?"</p> + +<p>Hermione didn't answer or lift her head and, stooping above her, he saw +how she was trembling; but her eyes were still fast shut.</p> + +<p>"You—you're not afraid—of me, are you, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And you're not—crying, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then I'd—better go, hadn't I? To Mrs. Trapes and supper—stewed beef, +I think, with—er—carrots and onions—"</p> + +<p>Her head was still bowed, and his tone was so light, his voice so lazy, +how was she to know that his hands were quivering or see how the passion +of his yearning was shaking him, fighting for utterance against his +iron will? How was she to know anything of all this until, swiftly, +lightly, he stooped and kissed the shining glory of her hair? In a while +she raised her head, but then—she was alone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>TELLS OF AN EARLY MORNING VISIT AND A WARNING</h3> + + +<p>Ravenslee dreamed that he was in a wood—with Hermione, of course. She +came to him through the leafy twilight, all aglow with youth and love, +eager to give herself to his embrace. And from her eyes love looked at +him unashamed, love touched him in her soft caressing hands, came to him +in the passionate caress of her scarlet mouth, love cradled him in the +clasp of her white arms. And the sun, peeping down inquisitively through +the leaves, showed all the beauty of her and made a rippling splendour +of her hair.</p> + +<p>But now the woodpecker began a tap-tapping soft and insistent somewhere +out of sight, a small noise yet disturbing, that followed them +wheresoever they went. Thus they wandered, close entwined, but ever the +wood grew darker until they came at last to a mighty tree whose sombre, +far-flung branches shut out the kindly sun. And lo! within this gloom +the woodpecker was before them—a most persistent bird, this, +tap-tapping louder than ever, whereat Hermione, seized of sudden terror, +struggled in his embrace and, pointing upward, cried aloud, and was gone +from him. Then, looking where she had pointed, he beheld no woodpecker, +but the hated face of Bud M'Ginnis—</p> + +<p>Ravenslee blinked drowsily at the wall where purple roses bloomed, at +the fly-blown text in the tarnished frame with its notable legend:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>LOVE ONE ANOTHER</p></div> + +<p>and sighed. But in his waking ears was the tap of the woodpecker, loud +and persistent as ever! Wherefore he started, stared, sat up suddenly +and, glancing toward the window, beheld a large cap and a pair of +shoulders he thought he recognised.</p> + +<p>"Why, Spider!" he exclaimed, "what the—"</p> + +<p>"Sufferin' Mike!" sighed the Spider plaintively, "here I've been +knockin' at your all-fired winder—knockin' an' knockin', an' here +you've been snorin' and snorin'."</p> + +<p>"No, did I snore, Spider?"</p> + +<p>"Bo, you sure are a bird for snorin'."</p> + +<p>"Damn it!" said Ravenslee, frowning, "I must break myself of it."</p> + +<p>"Thinkin' of gettin' married, bo?"</p> + +<p>"Married? What the—"</p> + +<p>"She'll soon get useter it, I guess—they all do!" said the unabashed +Spider. "Anyway, if you didn't snore exactly, you sure had a strangle +hold on the snooze business, all right. Here's me crawled out o' me +downy little cot t' put ye wise t' Bud's little game, an' here's you +diggin' into the feathers t' beat th' band!"</p> + +<p>"But the window was open; why didn't you come in right away?"</p> + +<p>"Not much, bo, I ain't the kind o' fool as makes a habit o' wakin' your +kind out o' their beauty sleep sudden, no more I ain't a guy as takes +liberties in strange bedrooms, see?"</p> + +<p>"Well, come in, Spider—sit on the bed; I haven't a chair to offer. By +the way, I have to thank you—"</p> + +<p>"Whaffor?"</p> + +<p>"Breaking that window—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I guess it wasn't a bad wheeze."</p> + +<p>"It gave me the chance I wanted, Spider."</p> + +<p>"Which you sure gripped with both mitts, bo!"</p> + +<p>"Now have a cigar—in that coat pocket—"</p> + +<p>"Not me, Geoff! Smoke's bad for th' wind, that's why I've took t' gum." +Saying which, the Spider proceeded to take out and open a packet of that +necessary adjunct, and having posted it into his mouth piece by piece, +fell to grim mastication.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said he suddenly, "you come away without your roof last night."</p> + +<p>"Eh?" said Ravenslee, blinking drowsily, "my what?"</p> + +<p>"Your lid, bo."</p> + +<p>"You mean my old hat?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm tryin' t' tell you—an' say, that sure is the hardest +bean cover I ever spotted; made of iron, is it? Where'd you find it?"</p> + +<p>"At some dim and distant day it originated in England, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Well, that lid would turn a poleaxe, sure; that's why I brought it +back—it's out on the fire escape now."</p> + +<p>"Very kind of you, Spider, but—"</p> + +<p>"Bo, you're goin' t' need that hat an' a soot o' tin underwear from now +on unless—well, unless you pack y'r trunk an' clear out o' Hell's +Kitchen on th' jump."</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you certainly handed Bud a whole lot more 'n he's ever had +before, an' it's a full house to a pair o' dooces he ain't lookin' for +no more from you just yet. But then, Bud ain't no pet lamb nor yet a +peace conference, an' it's four aces to a bum-flush he means t' get back +at ye some way—an' get ye good!"</p> + +<p>"Oh?" said Ravenslee, yawning.</p> + +<p>"And oh some more!" nodded the Spider; "it's sure comin' t' you. When I +got back las' night, there's Bud settin' against th' wall lookin' like +an exhibit from the morgue, fightin' for breath t' cuss you with. 'N' +say, you sure had done him up some, which I wasn't nowise sad or peeved +about, no, sir! Me an' Bud's never been what you might call real +kittenish an' playful together. But it seems you ain't only soaked an' +throttled him good an' plenty, but he's gone an' let out t' you about +that guy Heine—an' consequently you've gotter be kept from opening y'r +mouth—see? Consequently it's you for a sudden an' hasty hike."</p> + +<p>"Oh?" said Ravenslee again.</p> + +<p>"Twice!" nodded the Spider, "with a F an' a L thrown in—that's what +you'll be, Geoff, if you try t' buck Bud an' th' gang. So here I've +shinnied up y'r fire escape to put ye wise an' lend a hand to make your +swift get-away."</p> + +<p>Ravenslee sighed and settled his head more comfortably on his pillow. +"You think I ought to go, Spider?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think—I know! Your number's up, Geoff—it's you against th' +field, an', bo—they're some field!"</p> + +<p>"You think there's real danger, then?" enquired Ravenslee, staring up at +the fly-blown text with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>"As real as—death, bo!"</p> + +<p>"Not so long ago I regarded Death as my best friend—"</p> + +<p>"How much?" demanded the Spider, suspending mastication.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Spider, a mere passing thought."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm tellin' ye they'll get ye sure—it'll be th' water or a +forty-four bullet, or a blackjack or a knife—but you'll get it one way +or another!"</p> + +<p>"Sounds cheering!"</p> + +<p>"An' it ain't over-pleasant t' be sandbagged."</p> + +<p>"No, Spider."</p> + +<p>"Nor t' feel a lead pipe wrapped round th' back o' y'r bean."</p> + +<p>"No indeed, Spider."</p> + +<p>"Nor yet t' feel a stiletta diggin' between y'r shoulders or over y'r +collar bone."</p> + +<p>"Worst of all, Spider."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd best pack y'r little trunk an' fade away, bo!" Ravenslee +sat up suddenly and looked at the Spider with eyes very bright and wide.</p> + +<p>"Not for all the gangs that ever ganged!" said he softly.</p> + +<p>"Eh?" exclaimed the Spider, staring, "what's yer game?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to try to buck this gang clean out of existence."</p> + +<p>"You are, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>"Bo," sighed the Spider, shaking his head, "you ain't a ordinary +fool—you're a damned fool!"</p> + +<p>"And you're going to help me, Spider!"</p> + +<p>"Not me, bo, not me—I'm only just an ordinary fool!"</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll let it go at that!" said Ravenslee, and lying back, he +yawned again.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that, bo, don't do that!" exclaimed the Spider. "I'm thinkin' +what you'll look like after you've been floatin' around in th' river—a +week, say! You'd best get out o' Hell's Kitchen, bo—don't stop to ask +where to, but—go there."</p> + +<p>"My Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "in Hell's Kitchen I +should have to leave all that makes life worth while, so—I shall stay, +of course, and chance the—er—river and things."</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess it's your trouble, not mine."</p> + +<p>"But I want it to be yours too, Spider. You see, I'm counting on you to +help me smash this gang."</p> + +<p>"Bo, it looks like you're goin' t' do a hell of a lot o' countin'—an' +then some more, before you count me in on this fool game. Say"—he +paused to stare at Ravenslee, keen-eyed and with jaws clamped +rigid—"you ain't a fly-cop—one o' these sleuthy gum-shoe men, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ain't one o' these fool amateur guys doin' the dare-devil +detective act like you read about in th' magazines, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"No more than you are one of these dirty gang loafers you hear about +around O'Rourke's—and that's why you're going to help me root 'em out."</p> + +<p>"Sufferin' Pete!" sighed the Spider, "here I keep tellin' you I ain't on +in this act, an' here you keep on ringin' me in frequent all the same."</p> + +<p>"Because you are a man, Spider Connolly, and white all through, and +because to smash up this gang is going to be man's work."</p> + +<p>"Well, it sure ain't no job for Sophy the Satin-skinned Show-girl—nor +yet for two nice, quiet little fellers like you an' me."</p> + +<p>"We shan't be quite alone, Spider."</p> + +<p>"That's some comfortin', anyway!"</p> + +<p>"There will be Joe Madden, for one."</p> + +<p>"Joe Mad—" The Spider very nearly bolted his wad of chewing gum, then +he rose and stood staring at Ravenslee, very round of eye. "So you know +Joe Madden, the best all-round champion that ever happened, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I box with him every day."</p> + +<p>"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, and chewed fervently in silent +astonishment. Suddenly he lifted his head and stood as one that hearkens +to distant sounds, and crossing stealthily to the window, climbed out.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Mother Trapes, bo. She's just rollin' out o' th' feathers, an' she's +quite enough for me—always has me fazed to a frazzle. If she caught me +here it 'ud be th' gimlet eye for mine—so here's where I fade away."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, come and have tea here with me to-night, Spider, unless +you think I am—er—too dangerous to visit just now on account of +M'Ginnis—"</p> + +<p>"Dangerous?" repeated the Spider, scowling, "bo, when I get a call t' +free food with a guy like you, danger gets lost in th' shuffle an' +forgotten—I'll be there. Now here's your bean cover—catch! S' long!" +And nodding, Spider promptly vanished down the fire escape.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>CHIEFLY CONCERNING A LETTER</h3> + + +<p>"Sunday," said Mrs. Trapes sententiously, "Sunday is a holy day t' some +folks an' a holiday for other folks, but t' folks like me an' Hermy it +sure ain't no day of rest an' gladness—like the hymn book says."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" said Ravenslee, pushing away his coffee cup and glancing +toward the loud-ticking clock upon the sideboard.</p> + +<p>"It sure ain't!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, quick to note the look. "Hermy an' +me ain't much given to Sunday observance, Mr. Geoffrey. Y' see, there's +always meals t' be cooked an' washin' up t' be done, an' clo'es t' be +mended p'raps. I've darned many a 'eartfelt prayer into a wore-out pair +o' stockin's before now an' offered up many a petition t' the Throne o' +grace with my scrubbin' brush sloshin' over the floor. Anyway, Hermy 'n' +me ain't never had much time for church-goin' or prayer meetin's or +mindin' our souls in our best frocks an' bonnets—no, sir! We jest have +t' get on with our work—sewin' an' cookin' an' washin'—mindin' the +welfare of other folks' bodies. So while them as has time an' +inclination sing their praises t' the Lord on their knees, Hermy an' me +take out our praises in work, an' have t' leave our souls t' God +an'—oh, well, I guess he'll take care of 'em all right—don't y' +think?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly do!" nodded Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"O' course, my soul ain't all it should be—a bit stained here +an' there, p'raps—a bit th' worse for wear, Mr. Geoffrey, but +Hermy's—well, there, I guess it's jest as sweet as a flower still, an' +white—as white as that tablecloth. An' talkin' about her soul—what +about her body, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee started. "Her body?" said he, staring. "Well, since you ask, +I should say it is like her soul—very sweet and white and—"</p> + +<p>"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "but, bein' only flesh an' blood after +all—bein' only miserable clay like yours an' mine, Mr. Geoffrey, it'll +always need food t' nourish it, clo'es t' keep it warm, an' a roof t' +shelter it. Well, if she was t' be s' mad as t' marry a peanut man, what +about food an' clo'es an' a roof?"</p> + +<p>"I think they could be managed, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"What—out o' peanuts?"</p> + +<p>"No—er—the fact is, I've given 'em up."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Y' don't say!" she remarked drily. "Think o' that, +now!"</p> + +<p>"The fact is, Mrs. Trapes, I—well, suppose I were to confess to you +that I'm not quite so poor as I seem—what should you say?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I should say as I knew that about three weeks ago, Mr. Geoffrey."</p> + +<p>"Oh, did you?" said Ravenslee, staring. "How in the world did you find +out?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell ye how. I got eyes an' I got ears, an' +sometimes I can see a bit with my eyes an' hear with my ears—that's +how! Oh, I've watched ye, Mr. Geoffrey—I've watched ye careful +because—well, because I sure love Hermy, an' 't would jest break my +'eart t' see her fallin' in love with a rogue!"</p> + +<p>"So you think—that she is—falling in love, then?" enquired Ravenslee +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Well, Hermy's Hermy, an' she's wrote you two letters to my knowin'—"</p> + +<p>"No, only one, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Now Hermy ain't the kind o' girl t' write twice to a man unless—"</p> + +<p>"But she has only written me one letter, Mrs. Trapes—the one she left +with you last week."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—here's the other!" said Mrs. Trapes, laying before him an +envelope addressed in the handwriting he had come to know so well.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you give it to me before?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Her orders, Mr. Geoffrey."</p> + +<p>"Orders?"</p> + +<p>"Orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "She come in here last night an' give it +me after you was gone t' bed. 'Ann dear,' she says, 'don't let him have +it till half after ten t' morrer,' she says. An' it's nearly eleven +now—so there's y'r letter!"</p> + +<p>"But," said Ravenslee, "why on earth—"</p> + +<p>"P'raps th' letter'll tell you, Mr. Geoffrey; s'pose you read it while I +clear away your breakfast things!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Ravenslee opened the letter and read these words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">My dear</span>,</p> + +<p>It would be my joy to trust myself to you utterly, to go with you to the +world's end if you would have it so. Only I'm afraid that I am not quite +what you would have me. I'm afraid that I might sometimes do things that +would remind you that I had been only a scrubwoman. I'm afraid that some +day you might regret. Were I to answer you now, I should answer you +selfishly—so, please, you must give me time to think, for both our +sakes. Love has never come near me before, and now I am a little afraid, +for love is not little and tender and babyish, but great and strong and +very fierce and masterful—that is why I am afraid of it. So I must go +away from you, from the sound of your voice, the touch of your hand—to +think it all out. My work will take me to Englewood to-morrow, and I want +you to wait for your answer until I come back, for then I shall have +decided one way or the other. But in Englewood the memory of your words +will be with me still—oh, did you mean all, quite all you said, and did +you say quite all you meant to say—did you? Did you? For indeed it has +seemed to me that if you really meant all you said you might have said a +little more—just a little more. This is a dreadfully long letter and +very badly expressed, I know, but I dare not read it through. But what +I have written is written from my heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hermione</span>.</p> + +<p>P.S. I shall be in Englewood three whole days.</p></div> + +<p>"Will strawberry jam an' angel cake an' a bunch or so o' water cress be +enough, Mr. Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee sat staring down at the letter, rubbing his square, +fresh-shaven chin as one very much at a loss.</p> + +<p>"'Might have said a little more—just a little more,'" he muttered, his +gaze focussed upon a certain line.</p> + +<p>"Will water cress an' angel cake an' a pot o' strawberry jam soot, Mr. +Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Now I wonder what the dickens she can mean?" mused Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"She means jest strawberry jam an' angel cake an' water cress, fer +tea—fer your visitors," said Mrs. Trapes, with a patient sigh.</p> + +<p>"Visitors!" repeated Ravenslee, glancing up. "Why, yes, they'll be here +about four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"An' will water cress an' angel cake an'—"</p> + +<p>"Quite enough! Certainly! Admirable!" exclaimed Ravenslee. "But what +beats me," he continued, staring down at the letter again, "is what she +can mean by writing this."</p> + +<p>"Not knowin' what she's wrote, I can't say."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes, I know you are Hermione's best and staunchest friend, and +lately I have ventured to hope you are mine too. As such, I want you to +read this letter—see if you can explain it!"</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Trapes took the letter; and when she had read it through, folded +it together with hands very gentle and reverent and stood awhile staring +out into the sunlit court.</p> + +<p>"My land!" she said at last, her harsh voice grown almost soft, "love's +a wonderful thing, I reckon. No wonder your eyes shine so. Yes, love's +a great an' wonderful thing—my land!"</p> + +<p>"But can you explain," said Ravenslee, as he took back the letter, "can +you tell me what she means by—"</p> + +<p>"Shucks, Mr. Geoffrey! That sure don't want no explainin'. When you said +all you did say to her, did y' say anything about 'wife' or 'marriage'?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I did!"</p> + +<p>"Sure?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—er—that is—I think so."</p> + +<p>"Not sure then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I may have done so—I must have done so, but really +I—er—forget—"</p> + +<p>"Forget!" Mrs. Trapes snorted. "Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, what d' +ye want with Hermy; is it a wife you're after or only—"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes!" Ravenslee was upon his feet, and before the sudden glare +in his eyes Mrs. Trapes gaped and for once fell silent. "Mrs. Trapes," +said he, still frowning a little, "really you—you almost—made me +angry."</p> + +<p>"My land!" said she, "I'm kind o' glad I didn't—quite!" and her sniff +was eloquent.</p> + +<p>"You see," he went on, glancing down at the letter again, "I've learned +to love and reverence her so much that your suggestion—hurt rather!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm sorry. But if your love is so big an' true +as all that—if you want her t' be a wife t' you—why in the 'tarnal +didn't ye speak out an' tell her so?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go and tell her so this minute."</p> + +<p>"Y' can't! She's gone t' Bronx Park with that b'y, 'n' won't be back +all day."</p> + +<p>"Damn!" exclaimed Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Keep on, it'll do ye good. But anyway, what +y' got t' say'll keep, I guess—it'll gush out all the stronger fer +bein' bottled up a day or two."</p> + +<p>"I can write!" he suggested.</p> + +<p>"You can—but you won't—you'll tell her with your two lips—a woman +likes it better spoke—if spoke proper—I should! With arms entwined an' +eyes lookin' into eyes an'—oh, shucks! Will angel cake an' strawberry +jam—"</p> + +<p>"They'll be ample, and—thank you, dear Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>HOW THE OLD UN AND CERTAIN OTHERS HAD TEA</h3> + + +<p>"Old Un," said Joe, halting his aged companion in the middle of the +second flight to wag a portentous finger, "Old Un, mind this now—if +there should 'appen to be cake for tea, don't go makin' a ancient beast +of yourself with it—no slippin' lumps of it into your pocket on the +sly, mind, because if I ketch ye at it—"</p> + +<p>"Don't be 'arsh, Joe, don't be 'arsh! Cake comes soft t' me pore old +teef."</p> + +<p>"An' mind this again—if there should be any jam about, no stickin' ye +wicked old fingers into it an' lickin' 'em behind my back."</p> + +<p>"You lemme an' the jam alone, Joe; it's a free country, ain't it?—very +well, then!"</p> + +<p>"Free country be blowed! You mind what I say, you venerable old bag of +iniquity, you!"</p> + +<p>"'Niquity yerself!" snarled the Old Un, and snapping bony finger and +thumb under Joe's massive chin, turned and went on up the stairs, his +smart straw hat cocked at a defiant angle, his brilliant shoes creaking +loudly at every step.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gorramighty!" he panted, halting suddenly on the fifth landing to +get his breath, "these perishin' stairs 'as ketched my wind, Joe; it's +worse 'n th' treadmill! Is there many more of 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Only six flights!" nodded Joe grimly.</p> + +<p>"Six!" wailed the Old Un. "Lord—it'll be the death o' me!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's about time you was dead," nodded Joe.</p> + +<p>"Dead ye'self!" snarled the old man. "I'm a better figger of a man than +ever you was—"</p> + +<p>"An' you would come," continued Joe serenely, as he deftly resettled the +old fellow's sporty bow-tie. "You fair plagued me to bring ye along, +didn't ye, old packet o' vindictiveness?"</p> + +<p>"Well, an' here I am, Joe, an' here I mean t' stay—no more climbin' fer +me; I'm tired, me lad, tired!" Saying which, the Old Un spread his +handkerchief on a convenient stair and proceeded to seat himself thereon +with due regard for his immaculately creased trousers.</p> + +<p>"Well," growled Joe, "of all the perverse old raspers that ever I did +see—"</p> + +<p>"That's enough, Joe, that's enough!" exclaimed the Old Un, fanning +himself with his rakish hat. "Jest bend down and flick the dust off me +shoes with your wipe, like a good lad, will ye? That's the worst o' +these 'ere patent leathers; they looks well, but they sure ketches th' +dust, Joe, they ketches the dust oncommon bad. So jest give 'em a flick +over—me pore old back's too stiff t' let me reach 'em, what wi' me +rheumatiz an' a floatin' kidney or so—"</p> + +<p>"Kidneys!" snarled Joe, drawing out a large bandanna handkerchief and +polishing the old man's natty shoes until they shone resplendent. +"What's the matter with ye blessed kidneys now?"</p> + +<p>"Don't I tell ye—they floats, Joe, they floats!"</p> + +<p>"Float!" growled Joe. "Float—where to?"</p> + +<p>"'Ere, there, an' everywhere, Joe, I can feel 'em! They're always +a-gettin' theirselves all mixed up any'ow. Oh, it's an 'orrible +complaint to 'ave kidneys like mine as gets theirselves lost."</p> + +<p>"Wish they'd lose you along with 'em!" growled Joe, shaking the dust +from his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Joe," said the old man, putting on his hat and blinking up at him +beneath its jaunty brim, "Joe, sometimes I fair despise ye!"</p> + +<p>"Well, despise away," nodded Joe, "only get up—stand up on them +doddering old pins o' yourn."</p> + +<p>"Not me!" declared the Old Un, "I ain't goin' to climb no more o' these +perishin' stairs—no, not for you nor nobody. 'Ere I am, me lad, an' +'ere I sits till you give me a piggy-back up to the top—me bein' a pore +old cove with rheumatiz. I demands it—"</p> + +<p>"You'll what?" growled Joe, hard-breathing and indignant.</p> + +<p>"Demand it, Joe—a pore old feller wi' kidneys—an' every other ailment +as flesh is hair to—a piggy-back, Joe—a piggy-back!"</p> + +<p>Without another word Joe stooped, and lifting the old man beneath one +arm, bore him up the stairs regardless of his croaking protestations and +fierce invective.</p> + +<p>"I said a piggy-back—oh, you blightin' perisher, I said a piggy-back," +he snarled, his resplendent shoes twinkling in futile kicks. "Oh, Joe, +there's times when I fair 'ates ye!"</p> + +<p>Thus, despite virulent curses and feeble kickings, Joe bore him on +and up until, as he climbed the last flight, he was arrested by an +exclamation from above, and glancing upward, beheld a tall, +sharp-featured woman who leaned over the rail.</p> + +<p>"Oh, land o' my fathers!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "what's the +matter—what you got there? Who are ye?"</p> + +<p>"The matter, ma'am," answered Joe, for by this time the Old Un had +cursed himself quite breathless, "the matter's contrariness; what I +'ave under my arm, ma'am, is a old reprobate, and I'm Joe Madden, ma'am, +come to take tea with my—come, as you might say, a visiting to Mr. +Geoffrey; p'raps you'll—"</p> + +<p>"Don't 'eed 'im, ma'am—never 'eed 'im!" croaked the Old Un, who had +regained his wind by now. "'E 's a perishin' pork pig, that's wot 'e is. +Joe, you blighter, put me down. It's me as the Guv expects—it's me as +'as come a-visitin'—Joe, put me down, you perisher. Joe's only a hoaf, +ma'am, a nass, ma'am. Joe ain't used to perlite serciety, Joe don't know +nothin'—put me down, Joe, like a good lad!"</p> + +<p>At this juncture Ravenslee appeared, whereupon Joe, having reached +the topmost landing, set the old man upon his natty feet and fell to +straightening his smart clothes with hands big but gentle.</p> + +<p>"Sir," explained Joe, answering Ravenslee's smiling look, "Old Sin an' +Sorrer here wouldn't walk up, which forced me to—"</p> + +<p>But now the Old Un, feeling himself again, cut in on his own account. +"Ma'am," said he, flourishing off his hat to Mrs. Trapes, "'ere 's me +an' me lad Joe come to tea—my best respex an' greetin's, ma'am. How do, +Guv? I do 'ope as you ain't forgot th' cake."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we've plenty of cake, Old Un!" laughed Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"An' water cress an' jam!" nodded Mrs. Trapes.</p> + +<p>"Guv," said the old man, gripping Ravenslee's hand, "God bless ye for a +true man an' a noble sport. Ma'am, you're a angel! Jam, ma'am—you're +a nymp'—you're two nymp's—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'I oft would cast a rovin' eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere these white 'airs I grew, ma'am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see a 'andsome nymp' go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But none s' fair as you, ma'am.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"An' there's me hand on it, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, staring; then all at once she +laughed, a strange laugh that came and went again immediately, yet left +her features a little less grim than usual, as, reaching out, she +grasped the old man's feeble hand.</p> + +<p>"I guess you're only bein' p'lite," said she, "but jest for that you're +sure goin' t' eat as much cake an' jam as your small insides can hold." +So saying, she led the way into her small and very neat domain and +ushered them into the bright little parlour where the Spider sat already +enthroned in that armchair whereon sunflowers rioted. Like the chair, +the Spider was somewhat exotic as to socks and tie, and he seemed a +trifle irked by stiff cuffs and collar as he sat staring at the green +and yellow tablecloth and doing his best not to tread upon the pink +hearthrug.</p> + +<p>"Joe," said Ravenslee, "this is Spider Connolly, who knocked out Larry +McKinnon at San Francisco last year in the sixty-ninth. Spider, I want +you to shake hands with—"</p> + +<p>"Bo," exclaimed the Spider, rising reverently and taking a step toward +Joe's massive figure, quite forgetful of the pink hearthrug now, "you +don't have t' tell me nothin'. I guess I know th' best all-round +fightin' man, the greatest champion as ever swung a mitt, when I see +him! T' shake his hand'll sure be—"</p> + +<p>"Young feller, me lad," cried the Old Un, reaching out nimbly and +catching the Spider's extended hand, "you got a sharp eye, a true eye—a +eye as can discrimpinate, like—ah, like a flash o' light. You're right, +me lad, I was the best fightin' man, the greatest champeen as ever +was—sixty odd years ago. Ho, yus, I were the best of 'em all, an' I +ain't t' be sniffed at now. So shake me 'and, me lad—an' shake—hard!"</p> + +<p>The Spider's grim jaw relaxed, and his eyes opened very wide as the Old +Un continued to shake his hand up and down.</p> + +<p>"But, say," said he faintly at last, "I don't—"</p> + +<p>"No more don't I," nodded the Old Un, "what's the old song say:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'I don't care if it rains or snows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or what the day may be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since 'ere's a truth I plainly knows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, you'll remember me.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"But say," began the bewildered Spider again. "Say, I reckon—"</p> + +<p>"So do I," nodded the Old Un:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'I reckon up my years o' life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' a good long life 'ave I.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye see, I never had a wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">P'raps that's the reason why.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"So take it from me, young feller, me cove, don't 'ave nothin' to do +with givin' or takin' in marriage."</p> + +<p>"Marriage?"</p> + +<p>"Marriage ain't good for a fightin' cove—it spiles him, it shakes +'is nerve, it fair ruinates 'im. When love flies in at the winder, +champeenships fly up the chimbley—never t' come back no more. So beware +o' wives, me lad."</p> + +<p>"Wives!" repeated the Spider, lifting free hand to dazed brow, "I—I +ain't never—"</p> + +<p>"That's right!" nodded the Old Un heartily, shaking the Spider's +unresisting hand again, "marriage ain't love, an' love ain't marriage. +Wot's the old song say:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Oh, love is like a bloomin' rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But marriage is a bloomin' thorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An 'usband 's full o' bloomin' woes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' 'caves a bloomin' sigh each morn—'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Why, Old Un!" exclaimed Ravenslee, "that's a very remarkable verse!"</p> + +<p>"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows in the doorway, +"I suspects he's a poet—an' him sech a nice little old gentleman!"</p> + +<p>"A poet, ma'am!" exclaimed the Old Un indignantly, "not me, ma'am, not +me—should scorn t' be. I'm a 'ighly respected old fightin' man, I am, +as never went on th' cross:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'A fightin' man I, ma'am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' wish I may die, ma'am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever my backers I crossed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' what's better still, ma'am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I forgot many a mill, ma'am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one of 'em ever I lost.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes again. "What a memory!"</p> + +<p>"Memory, ma'am!" growled Joe, "that ain't memory; 'e makes 'em up as 'e +goes along—"</p> + +<p>"Joe," said the Old Un, glaring, "if the lady weren't here, an' axin' +'er pardon—I'd punch you in the perishin' eye-'ole for that!"</p> + +<p>"All right, old vindictiveness," sighed Joe, "an' now, if you'll let go +of Spider Connolly's fist, I'd like to say 'ow do. Sit down an' give +some one else a chance to speak—sit down, you old bag o' wind—"</p> + +<p>"Bag o'—" the old man dropped the Spider's nerveless hand to turn to +Mrs. Trapes with a gloomy brow. "You 'eard that, ma'am—you 'eard this +perishin' porker call me a bag o'—Joe, I blush for ye! Ma'am, pore Joe +means well, but 'e can't 'elp bein' a perisher—but"—and here the Old +Un raised and shook a feeble old fist—"I've a good mind t' ketch 'im +one as would put 'im t' sleep for a fortnight—I've a good mind—"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Trapes caught that tremulous fist and drawing the Old Un's arm +through her own, turned to the door.</p> + +<p>"You come along with me," said she, "you shall help me t' get the tea; +you shall carry in th' cake an'—"</p> + +<p>"Cake!" exclaimed the Old Un, "Oh, j'yful word, ma'am; you're a—a +lidy! An' there's jam, ain't there?"</p> + +<p>"Strawberry!"</p> + +<p>"Straw—oh, music t' me ears, ma'am—you're a nymp'—lead me to it!" So +saying, the Old Un followed Mrs. Trapes out into the kitchen, while the +Spider stared after him open-mouthed.</p> + +<p>"Sufferin' Pete!" he murmured, then, inhaling a long, deep breath, +turned to grasp Joe's mighty, outstretched hand. Then, drawing their +chairs together, they sat down, and Ravenslee, by an adroit question +or two, soon had them talking, the Spider quick and eager and chewing +voraciously, Joe soft-voiced and deliberate but speaking with that calm +air of finality that comes only of long and varied experience. So, while +Ravenslee smoked and listened, they spoke of past battles, of fights and +fighters old and new; they discoursed learnedly on ringcraft, they +discussed the merits of the crouch as opposed to the stiff leg and +straight left; they stood up to show tricks of foot and hand—cunning +shifts and feints; they ducked and side-stepped and smote the empty air +with whirling fists to the imminent peril of the owl that was a parrot, +which moth-eaten relic seemed to watch them with his solitary glass eye. +And ever the Spider's respect and admiration for the mild-eyed, +quiet-spoken champion waxed and grew.</p> + +<p>"Bo!" said he, dexterously catching the toppling bird, glass case and +all, for the second time, and addressing Ravenslee with it clasped to +his heart, "bo," he repeated, his eyes shining, "I guess Joe Madden, the +greatest battler of 'em all, is—Joe Madden still. I've always wanted t' +meet with him, an' say—I wouldn't ha' missed him for a farm."</p> + +<p>"Is that so!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, entering the room at this moment +with the tea-cloth, "well, now—you jest put 'im down—you jest put that +bird back again, Spider Connolly!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," quoth the Spider, all abashed humility.</p> + +<p>"What you doin' with it, anyway?" she demanded, elbows jutted ominously; +"it's lost a eye, an' a cat got it once an' sp'iled it some, but I +treasure it fer reasons o' sentiment, an' if you think you c'n steal +it—"</p> + +<p>"Not 'im, ma'am, not 'im!" piped the Old Un from the doorway, "it ain't +the pore lad's fault. It's Joe, blame it all on to Joe—Joe's got a bad +'eart, ma'am, a black, base-'earted perisher is Joe—so no jam for Joe, +ma'am, an' only one slice o' cake."</p> + +<p>Here Ravenslee hastened to explain, whereupon Mrs. Trapes's grimness +abated, and her bristling elbows subsided; and now, perceiving how the +abashed Spider, meeting her eye, flushed, plucked at his cuffs, and +shuffled his feet, she reached out to pat his broad and drooping +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Mister Connolly," said she, "for harsh words spoke in haste I craves +now your pardon, an' I craves it—humble. Am I forgive?"</p> + +<p>The Spider, flushing redder than ever, rose to his feet, seized her +hand, shook it, and muttered: "Sure!"</p> + +<p>When the table was laid, the Old Un proposed, and was duly seconded, +thirded, and fourthed, that Mrs. Trapes be elected into the chair to +pour out the tea, which she proceeded to do forthwith, while the Old Un, +seated at her right hand, kept a wary eye roving between jam dish and +angel cake. And by reason of the unwonted graciousness of Mrs. Trapes, +of Ravenslee's tact and easy assurance, and the Old Un's impish +hilarity, all diffidence and restraint were banished, and good +fellowship reigned supreme, though the Spider was interrupted in the +midst of a story by the Old Un suddenly exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Keep your hand out o' the jam, Joe!"</p> + +<p>And Joe was later rendered speechless, hard-breathing, and indignant, by +the Old Un turning to Mrs. Trapes with the shrill warning:</p> + +<p>"Ma'am, Joe's 'ad two 'elpin's o' cake an' got 'is 'orrid eye on what +remains!"</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the meal was in all ways a success, and Ravenslee was +reaching for his pipe when Mrs. Trapes, summoned to the front door by a +feverish knocking, presently came back followed by Tony, whose bright +eyes looked wider than usual as he saluted the company.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Geoff, me tell-a you piece-a da-noos!" he cried excitedly, "big-a +piece-a da-noos. Da cops go-a pinch-a Bud-a M'Ginn'!"</p> + +<p>"Bud? Bud?" stammered the Spider. "Have they pinched Bud? Is this the +straight goods, Tony?"</p> + +<p>"Sure—they gott-a heem this-a morn in Jersey City—'n' say, he think-a +eet a frame-up—he theenk-a Geoff set-a de cops for-a take heem."</p> + +<p>"The hell he does!" exclaimed the Spider, starting to his feet.</p> + +<p>"So he send-a da word to Soapy," continued Tony, his eyes rolling, "an' +now all-a da gang's out layin' for-a Geoff. So when Geoff go-a out on +da street—bingo! Dey snuff hees light out—"</p> + +<p>"Not much they won't!" said the Spider, buttoning up his coat and +turning to the door. "I'll mighty soon fix this, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you can, Spider?" enquired Ravenslee. "If you're going to +have any trouble, don't bother about—"</p> + +<p>"Bo," said the Spider, squaring his big jaw, "get onto this: here's +where I chip in with ye; from now on we're in this game together, an' +I ain't a guy as'll lay down his hand till I'm called—an' called good, +see? You said it was goin' t' be a man's work—by Jiminy Christmas, it +looks like you're right; anyway, I stand in with you, that's sure—put +it there, bo!"</p> + +<p>"But," said Ravenslee, as their hands gripped, "I don't want you to take +any chances on my account, or run any—"</p> + +<p>"Fudge, bo, fudge! I ain't takin' no chances—"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm coming along to see you don't!" said Ravenslee, reaching for +his hat.</p> + +<p>"Not on your life, bo; you'd queer th' whole show. Y' see, they're a +tough crowd an' apt t' act a bit hasty now an' then; 'sides, they might +think you're heeled, and they know I don't never carry a gun—they all +know me—"</p> + +<p>"Still, I'm coming, Spider—"</p> + +<p>"Y' can't, bo; Mrs. Trapes ain't goin' t' let ye—look at her!"</p> + +<p>"You never spoke a truer word since you drawed the vital air, Spider +Connolly!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, hands on hips and elbows at the "engage." +"If Mr. Geoffrey stirs out this day, he's jest gotter trample over my +mangled remains, that's all!"</p> + +<p>Heeding the glitter in her eye and noting the inexorable jut of her +elbows, Ravenslee sat down and went on filling his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Y' see, bo, I know as it wasn't you as give Bud away, an' the boys'll +listen t' my say-so—you bet they will. So here's where I ooze away. S' +long, all!"</p> + +<p>The Old Un, having bolted the last handful of cake, got upon his legs +and clutched the Spider's coat in talon-like fingers.</p> + +<p>"'Old 'ard, young feller, me lad!" he cried. "If there's any chance of +a scrap comin' off—wot about me? Gimme me 'at, Joe, an' get yourn; if I +don't knock some on 'em stone cold—call me a perishin' ass!"</p> + +<p>"Why, since you say so, old blood an' bones," said Joe, his mild eye +brightening, "we will step along with the Spider a little way if the +Guv'nor'll excuse us?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Joe," nodded Ravenslee, "on condition that you do just as +the Spider says."</p> + +<p>"You mean, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No fighting, Joe—at least, not yet."</p> + +<p>"Trust me, sir! What ain't to be—yet, is to be sometime, I 'opes," +sighed Joe.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Guv, good-by!" croaked the Old Un, "if I don't put some o' +they perishers in the 'orspitals an' the infirmaries—I ain't the man I +was—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Oh, used am I to war's alarms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I 'unger for the fray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though beauty clasps me in 'er arms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trumpet calls away.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So having made their adieux, the three took their departure; though +once, despite Joe's objurgations, the Old Un must needs come back to +kiss Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand with a flourish which left her +voiceless and round of eye until the clatter of their feet had died +away.</p> + +<p>Then she closed the door and fixed Ravenslee with her stoniest stare.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey," she demanded, "why did they call you 'Guv'nor', and +wherefore 'Sir'?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee, in the act of lighting his pipe, had paused for a suitable +answer, when Tony, who had remained mute in a corner, stepped forward +and spoke:</p> + +<p>"Say, Geoff, I got-a bit-a more noos. Old-a Finlay-a want-a spik with-a +you—"</p> + +<p>"Old Finlay—with me?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. Old-a Finlay-a go die-a ver' queek, an' he vant-a spik with-a you +first."</p> + +<p>"Dying! Old Finlay dying?" questioned Ravenslee, rising.</p> + +<p>"Sure! He go die-a ver' queek."</p> + +<p>"I'll come!"</p> + +<p>"An' I guess," said Mrs. Trapes, "yes, I opine as I'll come along wi' +ye, Mr. Geoffrey."</p> + +<p>Old Martin Finlay lay propped up by pillows, his great, gaunt, useless +body seeming almost too large for the narrow bed wherein he lay, staring +up great-eyed at Ravenslee—live eyes in a dead face.</p> + +<p>"It's dying I am, sorr," said he faintly, "an' it's grateful is ould +Martin for the docthers and medicine you've paid for. But it's meself +is beyand 'em all—an' it's beyand 'em I'm goin' fast. She's waitin' +for me—me little Maggie's houlding out her little hand to me—she's +waitin' for me—beyand, Holy Mary be praised! An' she's waited long +enough, sorr, my little Maggie as I loved so while the harsh words +burned upon me tongue—my little Maggie! I was bitter cruel to my little +girl, but you've been kind to me, and, sorr, I thank ye. But," continued +the dying man, slowly and feebly, "it aren't to thank yez as I wanted +ye—but to give yez something in trust for Miss Hermy—ye see, sorr, I +shant be here when she comes back to-night, I'll be with—little Maggie +when the hour strikes—my little Maggie! Norah, wife—give it to him."</p> + +<p>Silently Mrs. Finlay opened a drawer, and turning, placed in Ravenslee's +hand a heavy gold ring curiously wrought into the form of two hands +clasping each other.</p> + +<p>"It was my Maggie's," continued Martin, "an' I guess she valleyed +it a whole lot, sorr. I found it hid away with odds and ends as she +treasured. But she don't want it no more—she's dead, ye see, sorr—I +killed her—drowned, sorr—I drowned her. Cruel an' hard I was—shut her +out onto the streets, I did, and so—she died. But before the river +took—oh, Blessed Mary—oh, Mother O' God—pity! Before she went t' +heaven, Miss Hermy was good t' her; Miss Hermy loved her and tried t' +comfort her—but only God could do that, I reckon—so she went t' God. +But Miss Hermy was kind when I wasn't, so, sorr, it's give her that ring +ye will, plaze, an' say as poor Martin died blessing her. An' now it's +go I'll ask ye, sorr, for God's callin' me to wipe away me tears an' +sorrers and bind up me broken heart—so lave me to God and—my little +Maggie—"</p> + +<p>Very softly Ravenslee followed Mrs. Trapes out of the room, but they had +not reached the front door when they heard a glad cry and thereafter a +woman's sudden desolate sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mr. Geoffrey," whispered Mrs. Trapes. "But I guess I'd better +stay here a bit."</p> + +<p>"You mean—?"</p> + +<p>"As poor Martin's sure found his little girl again!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>HOW SPIKE MADE A CHOICE AND A PROMISE</h3> + + +<p>Monday morning found Ravenslee knocking at the opposite door, which +opening, disclosed Spike, but a very chastened and humble Spike, who +blushed and drooped his head and shuffled with his feet and finally +stammered:</p> + +<p>"Hello, Geoff—I—I'm all alone, but you—you can come in if—if you +care to?"</p> + +<p>"I dropped in on my way down just to have a word with you, Spike."</p> + +<p>With dragging feet Spike led the way into the sitting room, where lay +his breakfast, scarcely tasted.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Geoff, I—I want to apologise," said the lad, toying +nervously with his teaspoon. "I guess you think I'm a mean, low-down +sort o' guy, an' you're right, only I—I feel worse 'n you think. An' +say, Geoff, if I—if I said anything th' other night, I want you +to—forget it, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Hermy's forgiven me. I—I've promised to work hard an' do what she +wants."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that, Spike!"</p> + +<p>"She came creepin' into my room this mornin' before she went, but—me +thinkin' she meant to give me a last call down—I pretended t' be +asleep, so she just sighed an' went creepin' out again an' wrote me +this," and Spike drew a sheet of crumpled note paper from his pocket and +handed it to Ravenslee, who read these words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Boy dear</span>, I love you so much that if you destroyed my love, I +think you would destroy me too. Now I must leave you to go to my work, +but you will go to yours, won't you—for my sake and for your sake and +because I love you so. Be good and strong and clean, and if you want some +one to help you, go to your friend, Mr. Geoffrey. Good-by, dear—and +remember your promise.</p></div> + +<p>Ravenslee passed back the pencilled scrawl and Spike, bending his head +low, read it through again.</p> + +<p>"I guess I've just got t' be good," he murmured, "for her sake. Oh, +Geoff," he cried suddenly, "I'd die for her!"</p> + +<p>"Better live for her, Spike, and be the honourable, clean man she +wishes."</p> + +<p>"She sure thinks you're some man, Geoff! I guess she's—kind o'—fond of +you."</p> + +<p>"That's what I've come to talk about, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Are you—fond of her, Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"Fond!" exclaimed Ravenslee, forgetting to drawl, "I'm so fond—I love +her so much—I honour her so deeply that I want her for my wife."</p> + +<p>"Wife?" exclaimed Spike, starting to his feet, his eyes suddenly +radiant, "d'ye mean you'll marry her?"</p> + +<p>"If she will honour me so far, Spike."</p> + +<p>"Marry her! You'll marry her!" Spike repeated.</p> + +<p>"As soon as she'll let me!"</p> + +<p>"Geoff—oh, Geoff," exclaimed the boy, and choking, turned away.</p> + +<p>"Won't you congratulate me?"</p> + +<p>"I can't yet," gasped Spike; "I can't till I've told ye what a mean guy +I've been."</p> + +<p>"What about?"</p> + +<p>"About you—and Hermy. Bud said you meant t' make her go the way—little +Maggie Finlay went, an'—oh, Geoff, I—I kind of believed him."</p> + +<p>"Did you, Spike—that foul beast? But you don't believe it any longer, +and M'Ginnis is—only M'Ginnis, after all."</p> + +<p>"But I—I've got to tell you more," said the lad miserably, as meeting +Ravenslee's eye with an effort, he went on feverishly. "The other night +after—after Bud slipped me the—the stuff an' I'd had a—a drink or +two, he began askin' all about you. At first I blocked and side-stepped +all his questions, but he kep' on at me, an' at last I—I give you away, +Geoff—" Here Spike paused breathlessly and cast an apprehensive glance +toward his hearer, but finding him silent and serene as ever he +repeated:</p> + +<p>"I—gave you away, Geoff!"</p> + +<p>"Did you, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I—I told him who you really are!"</p> + +<p>"Did you, Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! Yes! Oh, Geoff, don't you understand?"</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't ye say something? Why don't ye tell me what I am? Say +I'm a dirty sneak—call me a yeller cur—anything!"</p> + +<p>"No, you were drunk, that's all; and when the drink is in, honour, and +all that makes a man, is out—you were only drunk."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I wasn't s' drunk as all that," gasped Spike, cowering in +his chair, "but he kep' on comin' at me with his questions, an' at +last—when I told him how I met up with you—he kind o' give a jump—an' +his face—" Spike clenched his fists and, slowly raising them, pressed +them upon his eyes. "I'll never forget th' look on—his face! So now you +know as I've blown th' game on ye—given ye away—you as was my friend!" +With the word Spike sobbed and fell grovelling on his knees. "Curse me, +Geoff!" he cried. "Oh, curse me, an' tell me what I am!"</p> + +<p>"You are Hermione's brother!"</p> + +<p>"My God!" wailed the boy. "If she knew, she'd hate me."</p> + +<p>"I—almost think she would, Spike."</p> + +<p>"You won't tell her, Geoff, you won't never let her know?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't get drunk, Spike."</p> + +<p>"But you won't tell her?" he pleaded, reaching out desperate hands, +"you won't?"</p> + +<p>"Not a word, Spike!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know I'm—rotten!" sobbed the lad. "I know you ain't got no use +for me any more, but I'm sorry, Geoff, I'm real sorry. I know a guy +can't forgive a guy as gives a guy away if that guy's a guy's friend. I +know as you can't forgive me. I know as you'll cut me out for good after +this. But I want ye t' know as I'm sorry, Geoff—awful sorry—I—I ain't +fit t' be anybody's friend, I guess."</p> + +<p>"I think you need a friend more than ever, Spike!"</p> + +<p>"Geoff!" cried the boy breathlessly. "Say—what d' you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean the time has come for you to choose between M'Ginnis and me. If +I am to be your friend, M'Ginnis must be your enemy from now on—wait! +If you want my friendship, no more secrets; tell me just how M'Ginnis +got you into his power—how he got you to break into my house."</p> + +<p>Spike glanced up through his tears, glanced down, choked upon a sob, and +burst into breathless narrative.</p> + +<p>"There was me an' Bud an' a guy they call Heine—we'd been to a rube +boxin' match up th' river. An' as we come along, Heine says: 'If I was +in th' second-story-lay there's millionaire Ravenslee's wigwam waitin' +t' be cracked,' an' he pointed out your swell place among th' trees in +th' moonlight. Then Bud says: 'You ain't got th' nerve, Heine. Why, th' +Kid's got more nerve than you,' he says, pattin' my shoulder. An' Heine +laughs an' says I'm only a kid. An' Geoff, I'd got two or three drinks +into me an' th' end was I agreed t' just show 'em as I had nerve enough +t' get in through a winder an' cop something—anything I could get. So +Bud hands me his 'lectric torch, an' we skin over th' fence an' up to +th' house—an' Heine has th' winder open in a jiffy, an' me—bein' +half-soused an' foolish—hikes inter th' room, an' you cops me on th' +jump an'—an' that's all!"</p> + +<p>"And M'Ginnis has threatened to send you up for it now and then, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Only for a joke. Bud ain't like me; he'd never split on a pal—Bud +wouldn't gimme away—"</p> + +<p>"Anyway, Spike, it's him or me. Which will you have for a friend?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff, I—I guess I'd follow you t' Kingdom Come if you'd let me. +I do want t' live straight an' clean—honest t' God I do, Geoff, an' if +you'll only forgive—"</p> + +<p>Spike's outstretched, pleading hands were caught and held, and he was +lifted to his feet.</p> + +<p>"My Arthur-Spike, art going to the office this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I am; my eye ain't—ain't s' bad, after all, is it? Anyway, I feel +more like what a man should feel like now, an'—Gee! look at me doin' +the sissy tear-spoutin' act! Oh, hell—lemme go an' wash me face. 'N' +say, if—if any o' them—I mean those dolly office boys has anything t' +say, I'll punch th' sawdust out o' them!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>WHICH MAKES FURTHER MENTION OF A RING</h3> + + +<p>Ravenslee, strolling in leisurely fashion along Tenth Avenue, became +aware of a slender, pallid youth whose old-young face was familiar; a +cigarette dangled from his pale, thin lips, and his slender hands were +hidden in the pockets of his smartly tailored coat. On went Ravenslee, +pausing now and then to glance idly into some shop window until, +chancing to slip his fingers into a waistcoat pocket, he paused all at +once and, drawing thence a ring wrought into the semblance of two +clasped hands, drew it upon his finger. Now as he glanced at the ring, +his eye gleamed and, smiling as one who has a sudden bright idea, he set +off faster than before, striding on light and purposeful feet. But, as +he turned a corner, he noticed that the pallid youth was still close +behind, wherefore he halted before a shop window where, among other +articles of diet, were cans of tomatoes neatly piled into a pyramid. At +these he stared, waiting, and presently found the pallid youth at his +elbow, who also stared upon the tomato pyramid with half-closed eyes and +with smouldering cigarette pendent from thin-lipped mouth. And after +they had stared awhile in silence, cheek by jowl, Ravenslee spoke in his +pleasant, lazy voice:</p> + +<p>"Judging by the labels these tomatoes are everything tomatoes possibly +could be."</p> + +<p>"'S right!" murmured the pale one imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"Fond of tomatoes?" enquired Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Aw!" answered his neighbour, "quit foolin'—talk sense!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly! Why do you follow me, Soapy?"</p> + +<p>Soapy's eyes grew narrower, and the pendent cigarette stirred slightly.</p> + +<p>"Know me, hey?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid! 'T was a bolt at a venture—a shot in the dark."</p> + +<p>"Talkin'—o'—shootin'," said Soapy, grimly deliberate, "peanuts ain't a +healthy profesh around here—not fer your kind, it ain't!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," answered Ravenslee, shaking his head gently at the +tomatoes, "I've heard of professions even more unhealthy."</p> + +<p>"Aw—well—say what?"</p> + +<p>"Well, talking of shooting—yours!"</p> + +<p>Soapy's narrow eyes gleamed with an added viciousness, his pale nostrils +expanded, but the retort died upon his curling mouth, his puffy eyelids +widened and widened as he stared at the ring on Ravenslee's finger, and +when he spoke his voice was strangely hoarse and eager.</p> + +<p>"Say, sport—where'd you—get that—ring?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause I want to know, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Think you've seen it before?"</p> + +<p>"Sport, I don't think—I know. I seen it many a time. I'd know it in a +million, sure."</p> + +<p>"Where did you see it before?"</p> + +<p>"On M'Ginnis's mitt. It useter belong t' Bud."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Ravenslee, scowling down at the ring, "you make me wish +more than ever that I had throttled him a little harder."</p> + +<p>"Where'd you get that ring, sport?" Soapy repeated.</p> + +<p>"From Maggie Finlay's father!"</p> + +<p>Soapy turned away to stare at the tomato cans again.</p> + +<p>"Meanin'?" he enquired at last, hoarser than before.</p> + +<p>"That once upon a time it belonged to—her."</p> + +<p>"Sport," said Soapy after an interval, still staring at the pyramid of +cans, "I useter know her once, an' I've jest nacherally took a fancy t' +that ring; if fifty dollars'll buy it, they're yours—right now."</p> + +<p>"It isn't mine," answered Ravenslee, still scowling at the ring which +he had drawn from his finger. "I'm on my way to take it to—its owner. +But if that person doesn't want it, and I'm pretty sure—that +person—won't, you shall have it, I promise you. And now," said he, +pocketing the ring and turning, still scowling, on Soapy, "you are one +of M'Ginnis's gang, I fancy; anyway, if you see him you can tell him +from me that if he gives me another chance I'll surely kill him for the +foul beast he is."</p> + +<p>"Sport," said Soapy, "I guess the Spider's right about you—anyway, you +ain't my meat. An' as fer killin' Bud—you sure ain't goin' t' get th' +chance—not while I have the say-so. S' long, sport!" and turning upon +his heel, Soapy lounged away.</p> + +<p>At Times Square Ravenslee entered the subway and, buying his ticket, was +jostled by a boy, a freckled boy, round-headed and round of nose, who +stared at him with a pair of round, impertinent eyes.</p> + +<p>Lost in happy speculation he was duly borne to One Hundred and Thirtieth +Street, where he boarded the ferry. Upon the boat he was again conscious +of a round head that bobbed here and there amid the throng of +passengers, but paid small heed as he leaned to watch the broad and +noble river and the green New Jersey shore. At Fort Lee, exchanging boat +for trolley car, he was once more vaguely conscious of two round eyes +that watched him from a rear seat; but as the powerful car whirled them +up-hill, plunged them down steep inclines, swung them around sharp +curves, through shady woods, past far-flung boughs whose leaves stirred +and whispered as the great car fleeted by, he fell again to dreaming of +Hermione and the future; and so reached Englewood, a small township +dreaming in the fierce midday sunshine. Here he enquired of a perspiring +butcher in shirtsleeves the whereabouts of the house he wanted and, +being fully directed and carefully admonished how to get there, set off +along the road. And remembering that her feet must often have traversed +this very path, he straightway fell to his dreaming again. Thus how +should he know anything of the round head that bobbed out from behind +bush or tree ere it followed whither he went? So Ravenslee came where +the road led between tall trees—to smooth green lawns beyond which was +the gleam of water and so at last to the house he sought.</p> + +<p>Now beside this house, separated by a wide stretch of lawn, was a small +wood and, lured by its grateful shade, he turned aside into this wood +and began pushing his way through the dense undergrowth, which presently +thinned to form a small clearing, roofed and shut in by leaves and full +of a tender green light. Here he paused, and espying a fallen tree hard +by, sat himself down and began to fill his pipe. And now, remembering +his shabby person, he felt disinclined to go up to the house and demand +to see Miss Chesterton. Yet see her he would—but how? He was frowning +over this problem when it was resolved for him quite unexpectedly; +roused by the sound of a snapping twig, he glanced up—and Hermione was +before him. She was coming down a narrow path that wound amid the +leaves, and because she wore no hat, the sunlight, filtering through the +branches, made a glory of her hair as she passed. Her head was bowed, +and she walked very slowly as one in thought; she had brought sewing +with her, but for once her busy hands were idle, and, as he looked upon +her beauty, scarce breathing, he saw again that look of wistful sadness.</p> + +<p>As he rose, she glanced up, and seeing him, stood utterly still. Thus +for a long moment they gazed upon each other, then, even as he hastened +to her, she came to him on swift, light feet, and, flushing, tremulous, +quick-breathing, gave herself into his arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hermione, my beloved!" he murmured, his voice tense and eager, +"didn't I say enough, last time? Don't you know I love you—worship +you—hunger and yearn for you? I want you with every breath I draw. +When will you be my wife—oh, when will you marry me, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>For answer she reached up her arms, sudden, passionate arms that clung +about him close and strong; so they stood thus, heart beating to heart, +thrilling at each other's nearness yet drawing ever closer until, +lifting her head, she gave her lips to his.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, my dear," she whispered, "is it right to love you so, +I wonder? I never thought it could be—like this. It frightens me +sometimes, because my love is so great and strong and I—so powerless. +Is it right? I—Oh!" she broke off breathlessly, "how can I speak if—if +you—"</p> + +<p>"Kiss you so much?" he ended, "you can't speak, so—don't speak, my +Hermione!" But now, all at once, he started and glanced up among the +leaves above them.</p> + +<p>"Dear," she whispered, "what is it?"</p> + +<p>"That tapping sound," he answered, still gazing upward.</p> + +<p>"It's only the woodpecker."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" he laughed. "It's strange, but I dreamed a scene like +this—yes, the great tree yonder, and you in my arms—though it seemed +so impossible then, and—"</p> + +<p>But uttering a sudden, low cry of alarm, Hermione broke from his clasp +and fled from him along the leafy path while he stared after her, lost +in amazement; then he ran also and caught her upon the edge of the +little wood.</p> + +<p>"What frightened you, Hermione—who was it?"</p> + +<p>"I—I thought I saw some one crouching behind a bush—watching us!"</p> + +<p>"Not—M'Ginnis?" he demanded, fierce-eyed.</p> + +<p>"No—no, I'm sure it wasn't!"</p> + +<p>"I'll go and look," said Ravenslee, clenching his fists. But now, as he +turned away, two round arms were about him again, soft and compelling, +and she was looking up at him, all shy-eyed, passionate tenderness; and +before the revelation in that look, he forgot all else in the world.</p> + +<p>"Hermione—when will you marry me?"</p> + +<p>Now, softened by distance, there floated to them the mellow booming of +a gong.</p> + +<p>"That means I must go!" she sighed.</p> + +<p>"Hermione—when will you marry me?"</p> + +<p>"Good-by—good-by—I must run!"</p> + +<p>But his long arms only clasped her the closer.</p> + +<p>"Hermione, when will you be my wife?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, please let me go; if I'm late—"</p> + +<p>"When, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>"When I—come home, if—you really—want me—Oh, now my hair's all +coming down, I know. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>Reluctantly he loosed her and stood to watch until, reaching the +verandah of the house, she paused to glance back to where he stood among +the leaves ere she vanished between the screen doors. Then Ravenslee +turned, and remembering her sudden fright, looked sharply about him, +even pausing, now and then, to peer behind bush and thicket; but this +time he did not think to glance upward, and thus failed to see the round +eyes that watched him from amid the leaves of the great tree.</p> + +<p>So he came again to the dusty highway and strode along, throbbing with +life and the lust of life, revelling in the glory of earth and sky and +quite unconscious of the small, furtive figure that flitted after him +far behind.</p> + +<p>And it was not until he sat in the ferryboat that he remembered he had +forgotten to give her the ring, after all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>MRS. TRAPES UPON THE MILLENNIUM</h3> + + +<p>Mulligan's was in a ferment. Bare-armed women talked in every doorway; +they talked from open windows, they talked leaning over banisters, they +congregated on landings and in passageways—but everywhere they talked; +while men and youths newly returned from work, lunch-can and basket in +hand, listened in wide-eyed astonishment, shook incredulous heads, +puffed thoughtfully at pipes or cigarettes, and questioned in guttural +wonderment.</p> + +<p>But Ravenslee, lost in his own happy thoughts, sped up the stairs all +unheeding, abstractedly returning such neighbourly salutes as he +happened to notice; reaching his lofty habitation in due course he let +himself in, and was in the act of filling his pipe when Mrs. Trapes +appeared. In one hand she grasped a meat skewer and in the other an open +testament, and it was to be noted that her bright eyes, usually so keen +and steady, roved here and there, from pink rug to green and yellow +tablecloth, thence to the parrot-owl, and at last to her lodger. Finally +she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, are ye saved?" she demanded in awe-struck tones.</p> + +<p>"Why, really, Mrs. Trapes, I—"</p> + +<p>"Because, Mr. Geoffrey, this day it behooveth us all t' think of our +souls an' th' hereafter, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Souls?" said Ravenslee, staring in his turn.</p> + +<p>"Fire," she continued, shaking portentous head, "fire I'm prepared for; +a earthquake I could endoor; battle, murder, and sudden death I could +abide; poverty is me lot, Mr. Geoffrey, an' hardship is me portion, an' +for all sich am I dooly prepared, sich things bein' nacheral; but fer +this—well, there!"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>"Matter, Mr. Geoffrey? Well, the millenyum's at hand, that's all—the +lion is about t' lay down with th' lamb, tigers has lost their taste fer +blood, an' snakes an' serpints has shed their vennymous fangs! Mr. +Geoffrey—the day is at hand—beware!"</p> + +<p>"What in the world—" began Ravenslee, but Mrs. Trapes stayed him with +uplifted skewer, and drew from the mysterious recesses of her apron a +folded circular which she proceeded to spread open and from which she +read in a hollow voice as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>NOTICE AUGUST 1, 1910.</p> + +<p>On and after the above date, all tenants soever residing within the +tenement house known as Mulligan's are warned that all rents will be +reduced by fifty per cent.</p> + +<p>BY ORDER.</p></div> + +<p>"Now what," said Mrs. Trapes, refolding the circular very reverently and +shutting it into the testament, "jest what d'ye think o' that?"</p> + +<p>"Quite a—er—remarkable document, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"Remarkable?" snorted Mrs. Trapes.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Ravenslee, beginning to fill his pipe, "extraordinary, most +extraordinary—er—very much so—"</p> + +<p>"Extraordinary? Mr. Geoffrey, is that all you got t' say about it?" And +Mrs. Trapes sniffed loudly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what more should I say?"</p> + +<p>"Why, ain't it th' wonder o' th' whole round world? Ain't it th' +merrycle of all time?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly! Not a doubt of it!" he agreed. "By the way, what do you +happen to have for supper? You see I've been—"</p> + +<p>"Supper?"</p> + +<p>"I'm quite hungry—I'm always hungry lately and—"</p> + +<p>"Hungry!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, rolling her eyes, "here I tell him +of wonders an' omens beyond pore huming understanding an'—he's hungry! +Lord, ain't that jest like a man! A man's soul, if a man has a soul, +lays in his stummick. Hungry! But you shall be fed—prompt, Mr. +Geoffrey. How'll b'iled salmon an' peas soot?"</p> + +<p>"Splendidly! And I think—"</p> + +<p>"'On and after,'" said Mrs. Trapes, slowly and dreamily, "'on and after +the above date, all tenants soever residin'—I've learned it by heart, +Mr. Geoffrey. Then it goes on to say, 'within the tennyment house known +as Mulligan's are warned'—hum! I wonder why 'warned'?—'are warned that +all rents will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!' Fifty per cent!" she +repeated in a dreamy rapture, "which is jest half, y' see. An', Mr. +Geoffrey, that's jest what's got me plumb scared—it's all so +unnacheral. I've heard o' rents bein' rose—constant, but who ever +heard of 'em bein' took down before? Well, well! My land! Well, well!"</p> + +<p>With which remark Mrs. Trapes went about her household duties, leaving +Ravenslee to lounge and smoke and dream blissfully of Hermione.</p> + +<p>"Y' see," said Mrs. Trapes, wandering in with a plate, "it'll make +things s' much easier for all of us; we shall begin t' feel almost +rich—some of us. 'Are warned that all rents will be re-dooced by fifty +per cent.' Well, well!" and she wandered out again.</p> + +<p>But presently she was back once more, this time with the tablecloth, +which she proceeded to spread, though still lost in dreamy abstraction.</p> + +<p>"At first I couldn't an' I wouldn't believe it, Mr. Geoffrey—no, sir!" +she continued in the same rapt voice. "But every one's got a notice same +as mine, so I guess it must be true—don't ye think?"</p> + +<p>"Not a doubt of it!" answered Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"But th' burnin' question as I asks myself is—who? It's signed 'By +Order', y' see, well—whose? One sure thing, it ain't Mulligan."</p> + +<p>"But he owns the place, doesn't he?"</p> + +<p>"He did, Mr. Geoffrey, an' that's what worries me—continual. What I +demands is—who now?"</p> + +<p>"Echo, Mrs. Trapes, methinks doth answer 'Who?' By the way, it +was—er—salmon and green peas I think you—"</p> + +<p>"My land, that bit o' salmon'll bile itself t' rags!" and incontinent +she vanished.</p> + +<p>However, in due time Ravenslee sat down to as tasty a supper as might be +and did ample justice to it, while Mrs. Trapes once more read aloud for +his edification from the wondrous circular, and was again propounding +the vexed and burning question of "who" when she was interrupted by a +knocking without, and going to the door, presently returned with little +Mrs. Bowker, in whose tired eyes shone an unusual light, and whose faded +voice held a strange note of gladness.</p> + +<p>"Good evenin', Mr. Geoffrey!" said she, bobbing him a curtsey as he rose +to greet her, "my Hazel sends you her love an' a kiss for them last +candies—an' thank ye for all th' medicine—but oh, Mr. Geoffrey, an' +you, Ann Trapes, you'll never guess what's brought me. I've come t' wish +ye good-by, we're—oh, Ann, we're goin' at last!"</p> + +<p>"Goin'!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clutching at her elbows, "y' never mean +as you're leavin' Mulligan's now the rent's been took down—re-dooced +fifty per cent.—by order?"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I'm tellin' ye—oh, Ann, ain't it just—heavenly!"</p> + +<p>"Heavenly!" repeated Mrs. Trapes, and sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Yes, heavenly t' see th' trees an' flowers again—t' live among them, +Ann."</p> + +<p>"Samanthy Bowker—what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Ann, my Tom's had a gardener's job offered him at a gentleman's +mansion in the country. Tom went after it t'day—an' got it. Fifteen +dollars a week an' a cottage—free, Ann! Hazel's just crazy with +joy—an' so'm I!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes fanned herself feebly with her apron.</p> + +<p>"All I can say is," said she faintly, "if the world don't come to an end +soon—I shall. A gardener's job! A cottage in th' country! Why, that's +what you've been hungerin' for, you an' Bowker, ever since I've known +ye. And to-day—it's come! An' to-day the rent's re-dooced itself fifty +per cent. by order—oh, dear land o' my fathers! When d' ye go?"</p> + +<p>"T'morrow mornin', Ann. Hazel'll sure grow a strong, well girl in th' +country—doctor said so last week—you heard him, Mr. Geoffrey, didn't +you?"</p> + +<p>"I did, Mrs. Bowker."</p> + +<p>"And my Tom's that excited he couldn't eat no supper—oh, an' have ye +seen in t'night's paper, Ann, about Mulligan's?"</p> + +<p>"No—what now?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, as though on the verge of +collapsing.</p> + +<p>"Well, read that—right there!" and unfolding an evening paper, Mrs. +Bowker pointed to a paragraph tucked away into a corner, and, drawing a +deep breath, Mrs. Trapes read aloud as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It is understood that Geoffrey Ravenslee, the well-known sportsman and +millionaire, winner of last year's International Automobile race and +holder of the world's long-distance speed record, has lately paid a +record price in a real estate deal. A certain tenement building off Tenth +Avenue has been purchased by him, the cost of which, it is rumoured, was +fabulous.</p></div> + +<p>"Fab'lous!" repeated Mrs. Trapes, and sniffed. "Well, I never had +no use fer millionaires, anyway—they're generally fools or rogues—this +one's a fool sure—any one is as would give much fer a place like +Mulligan's—an' yet, come t' think of it again—'are warned as all rents +will be re-dooced fifty per cent. by order'—yes, come t' think of it +again, what I say is—God bless this millionaire, an' whatever he is, +Ann Angelina Trapes is sure goin' t' mention him before th' Throne this +night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>WHICH SHOULD HAVE RELATED DETAILS OF A WEDDING</h3> + + +<p>"It's all very, very wonderful, Ann, dear! But then—everything is so +wonderful—just lately!"</p> + +<p>"Meanin' what, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>Hermione was darning one of Spike's much-mended socks, while Mrs. Trapes +sat drinking tea. "Meanin' jest what is wonderful, my dear, and—since +when?" she persisted.</p> + +<p>"Oh—everything, Ann!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you said everything before. S'pose you tell me jest the one thing +as you find so wonderful? An'—why an' wherefore that blush?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ann—Ann, dear!" Down went sock and needle and, falling on her +knees, Hermione clasped her arms about Mrs. Trapes and hid her glowing +face in her lap. "Ann, dear, I'm so happy!" she sighed—her speech a +little muffled by reason of the voluminous folds of Mrs. Trapes's snowy +apron.</p> + +<p>"Happy?" said Mrs. Trapes, setting down her teacup to fondle and stroke +that shapely head, "sich happiness ain't all because of the rent bein' +re-dooced, by order, I reckon—is it?"</p> + +<p>"Dear Ann," said Hermione, her face still hidden, "can't you guess?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear," answered Mrs. Trapes, her harsh tones wonderfully soft, +"I don't have to—I guessed days ago. D' ye love him, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"Love him!" repeated Hermione, and said no more, nor did she lift her +bowed head, but feeling the quick, strong pressure of those soft, +embracing arms, the quiver of that girlish body, Mrs. Trapes smiled, +and stooping, kissed Hermione's shining hair.</p> + +<p>"When did he speak, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"Last Monday, Ann."</p> + +<p>"Did he say—much?"</p> + +<p>"He asked me to—marry him."</p> + +<p>"Spoke of marriage, eh? Did he happen t' mention th' word—wife?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, many times, Ann."</p> + +<p>"Good f'r him! An' when's it t' be?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ann, dear, I—I'm afraid it's—to-night!"</p> + +<p>"T'night? My land, he's sure some hasty!"</p> + +<p>"And so—so masterful, Ann!"</p> + +<p>"Well, y' sure need a master. But t'night—land sakes!"</p> + +<p>"He wrote and told me he would fix things so he could marry me to-night, +Ann!"</p> + +<p>"Then he's sure out fixin' 'em right now. Lord, Hermy, why d' ye +tremble, girl—y' sure love him, don't ye?"</p> + +<p>"So much, Ann, so very much—and yet—"</p> + +<p>"You ain't scared of him, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"No—and yet, I—I think I am—a little."</p> + +<p>"But you'll marry him, all the same?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"An' t'night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But Ann, dear, when he comes in I want you to keep him with you as +long as you can—will you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sure I'll keep him, jest as long as—he'll let me! Lord, t' think +as my little Hermy'll be a married woman this night!"</p> + +<p>"And—oh, Ann, I haven't any—trousseau—"</p> + +<p>"Shucks! You don't need none. You're best as you are. You won't need no +fluffs an' frills, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"But, Ann dear," said Hermione, lifting her head and shaking it +ruefully, "I have—nothing! And my best dress—I made it in such a +hurry, you remember—it needs pressing and—"</p> + +<p>"He ain't marryin' you fer your clo'es, Hermy—no, sir! It's you he +wants an'—oh, shucks! What do clo'es matter t' you, anyway? You was +meant to be one o' them nymphs an' goddesses as went about clad—well, +airy. You'd ha' done fine with them soft arms an' shoulders an'—"</p> + +<p>"But I'm not a goddess, Ann, I'm only poor Hermy Chesterton—with a +hole in one stocking and the lace on her petticoat torn, and her other +things—well, look here!" and up whirled gown and petticoat, "see what a +state they're in—look, Ann!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I am!" nodded Mrs. Trapes over her teacup, "an' what I say is, +it don't matter a row o' pins if a stockin' 's got a bit of a hole in it +if that stockin' 's on sich a leg as that! An' as fer—"</p> + +<p>"But," sighed Hermione, "don't you understand—"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I do! I was a married woman once, mind. An' I tell you 'beauty +doth lie in the eye o' the beholder', my dear, an' the two eyes as is +a-goin' t' behold you this night is goin' t' behold so much beauty as +they won't behold nothin' else."</p> + +<p>"But—he loves dainty things, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't he gettin' a dainty thing? Ain't he gettin' th' daintiest, +sweetest, loveliest—" Here Mrs. Trapes set down her cup again to clasp +Hermione in her arms.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he'll—understand, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"He'll be a fool if he doesn't!"</p> + +<p>"And make allowances? He knows how poor we are and how busy I have to +be."</p> + +<p>"He does so, my dear. But, if it's goin' t' comfort you any, there's +that corset cover you made me last Christmas. I ain't never wore it; +I ain't dared to with all them trimmin's an' lace insertion, an' me s' +bony here an' there. You can have it an' willin', my dear, an' then +there's them—"</p> + +<p>"Ann, you dear thing, as if I would!"</p> + +<p>"Why not? That corset cover's a dream! An' then there's them—"</p> + +<p>"Dear, I couldn't—I wouldn't! No, I'll go to him just as I am—he +shall marry me just like I am—"</p> + +<p>"An' that's a goddess!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "yes, a young goddess—only, +with more clo'es on, o' course. I'm glad as he's quit peanuts; peanut +men don't kind o' jibe in with goddesses."</p> + +<p>"Ann," said Hermione, sitting back on her heels, "I think of him a great +deal, of course, and—just lately—I've begun to wonder—"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, blowing her tea, "so do I! I been wonderin' +ever since he walked into my flat, cool as I don't know what, an', my +dear, when I sets me mind t' wonderment, conclusions arrive—constant! +I'll tell ye what I think. First, he ain't s' poor as he seems—he wears +silk socks, my dear. Second, he's been nurtured tender—he cleans them +white teeth night an' morn. Third, he ain't done no toil-an'-spinnin' +act—take heed t' his hands, my dear. He's soft-spoke but he's +masterful. He's young, but he's seen a lot. He ain't easy t' rile, but +when he is—my land! He don't say a lot, an' he don't seem t' do much, +an' yet—he don't seem t' starve none. Result—he may be anything!"</p> + +<p>"Anything? Ann, dear!"</p> + +<p>"Anything!" repeated Mrs. Trapes. "An' havin' studied him good an' +heeded him careful, I now conclood he's jest the thing you need, my +dear."</p> + +<p>"Then you like him, Ann—you trust him?"</p> + +<p>"I sure do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you dear—dear—dear thing!" And once again Mrs. Trapes was clasped +in those vigorous young arms and kissed with every "dear."</p> + +<p>"Though, mind you," said Mrs. Trapes, pushing cup and saucer out of +harm's way, "though, mind you, he's a mystery I ain't found out—yet. D' +ye s'pose he made any money out o' them blessed peanuts—not him! Mrs. +Smalley, as lives down along 'Leventh, she told me as she's seen him +givin' 'em away by the bagful t' all the children down her +way—repeated!"</p> + +<p>"How sweet of him!" said Hermione, her red mouth all tender curves.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but how did he live? How does he? How will he?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, dear; I only know I would trust him always—always!" And +sitting back, chin in hand, Hermione fell again to happy thought.</p> + +<p>"When he give up the nuts," pursued Mrs. Trapes, draining the teapot and +sighing, "he tells me some fool tale of makin' a deal in real estate, +an' I—ha, real estate!" Mrs. Trapes put down the teapot with a jerk. +"A deal in real estate!" she repeated, and thereafter fell to such +unintelligible mutterings as "Record price! Fab'lous! No, it couldn't +be! An' yet—silk socks! 'On an' after above date all tenants soever +residin'—will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!'" Suddenly Mrs. Trapes +sat bolt upright. "My land!" she ejaculated, "oh, dear land o' my +fathers—if sech could be!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Ann," exclaimed Hermione, roused from her reverie, "whatever is +the matter?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, laying gentle hand on Hermione's blooming +cheek, "nothin'—nothin' 't all! I'm jest goin' over in my mind sich +small matters as silk socks an' toothbrushes, that's all."</p> + +<p>"But you do mean something—you always do."</p> + +<p>"Well—if I do this time, my dear, I'm crazy—but the Bowkers have gone, +mind that! An' him s' fond o' little Hazel!" Here Mrs. Trapes nodded +almost triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"The Bowkers? Why, yes—I've been wondering—"</p> + +<p>"I guess you know he went t' O'Rourke's an' give that M'Ginnis the +thrashin' of his dirty life?" said Mrs. Trapes rather hastily. "Nigh +killed the loafer, Spider Connolly told me."</p> + +<p>"He's so strong," said Hermione softly, her eyes shining. "But, Ann, +what did you mean about—about toothbrushes and socks?"</p> + +<p>"Mean? Why, socks an' toothbrushes, o' course. An' my land! here's me +guzzlin' tea, an' over in my kitchen th' finest shin o' beef you ever +saw a-b'ilin' f'r his supper. But now the question as burns is, if a +married man this night, will he be here t' eat? An' if him—then you? +An' if man an' wife suppin' in my parlour—where will ye sleep?"</p> + +<p>"I—oh, Ann—I don't know. His letter just said that when I came home it +would be our—wedding night!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then it sure will be. An' f'r a weddin' supper, y' couldn't have +nothin' better 'n shin o' beef. I'll go an' watch over that stoo with +care unfailin', my dear; believe me, that stoo's goin' t' be a stoo as +is a stoo! What, half after five? Land sakes, how time flies!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH HERMIONE MAKES A FATEFUL DECISION</h3> + + +<p>When Mrs. Trapes was gone, Hermione stood a long time to look at herself +in her little mirror, viewing and examining each feature of her lovely, +intent face more earnestly than she had ever done before; and sometimes +she smiled, and sometimes she frowned, and all her thought was:</p> + +<p>"Shall I make him happy, I wonder? Can I be all he wants—all he thinks +I am?"</p> + +<p>So, after some while, she combed and brushed out her glorious hair, +shyly glad because of its length and splendour; and, having crowned her +shapely head with it, viewed the effect with cold, hypercritical eyes.</p> + +<p>"Can I, oh, can I ever be all he wants—all he thinks I am?"</p> + +<p>And then she proceeded to dress; the holey stockings were replaced by +others that had seen less service; the worn frills and laces were +changed for others less threadbare. This done, Hermione, with many +supple twists, wriggled dexterously into her best dress, pausing now and +then to sigh mournfully and grieve over its many deficiencies and +shortcomings, defects which only feminine eyes, so coldly critical, +might hope to behold.</p> + +<p>Scarcely was all this accomplished when she heard a soft knock at the +outer door, and at the sound her heart leapt; she flushed and paled and +stood a moment striving to stay the quick, heavy throbbing within her +bosom; then breathlessly she hastened along the passage and, opening the +door with trembling hands, beheld Bud M'Ginnis. While she stared, dumb +and amazed, he entered and, closing the door, leaned his broad back +against it.</p> + +<p>"Goin' away, Hermy?" he enquired softly, looking her over with his slow +gaze.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Goin' far, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Goin'—alone, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"Why are you here? What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"T' save ye from—hell!" he answered, his voice rising loud and harsh on +the last word. "Oh, I know," he went on fiercely, "I know why you're all +dolled up in your best. I know as you mean t' go away to-night with—him. +But you ain't goin', girl—you ain't."</p> + +<p>"To-night," she said gently, "is my wedding night."</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis lifted a hand and wrenched at the silken neckerchief he wore as +though it choked him.</p> + +<p>"No!" he cried, "you ain't a-goin' t' get no wedding, Hermy; he don't +mean t' give ye a square deal. He's foolin' ye—foolin' ye, girl! Oh," +said he through shut teeth, "ye thought I was safe out o' the way, I +guess. You ought t' known better; th' p'lice couldn't hold me, they +never will. Anyway, I've kept tabs on ye—I know as you've been meeting +him—in a wood! I know," here M'Ginnis seemed to choke again, "I know of +you an' him—kissin' an' cuddlin'—oh, I've kept tabs on ye—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said gently, "I saw your spy at work."</p> + +<p>"But y' can't deny it. Y' don't deny it! Say, what kind o' girl are +you?"</p> + +<p>"The kind that doesn't fear men like you."</p> + +<p>"But y' can't deny meetin' him," he repeated, his hoarse voice +quivering; "you don't deny—kissin' him—in a wood! Only deny it, Hermy, +only say you didn't, an' I'll choke th' life out of any guy as says you +did—only deny it, Hermy."</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to deny it. If your spy had ears he can tell you that +we are going to be married. Now go."</p> + +<p>Once more M'Ginnis reached up to his throat and trenched off the +neckerchief altogether.</p> + +<p>"Married!" he cried, "an' t' him! He's foolin' ye, Hermy, by God he is! +Girl, I'm tellin' ye straight an' true—he'll never marry ye. His kind +don't marry Tenth Av'ner girls—Nooport an' Fifth Av'ner's a good ways +from Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't ever come t'gether, +I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" sighed she, falling back a step, "what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I mean," said M'Ginnis, twisting the neckerchief in his powerful +hands much as if it had been the neck of some enemy, "I mean as this guy +as comes here bluffin' about bein' down an' out, this guy as plays at +sellin' peanuts is—Geoffrey Ravenslee, the millionaire."</p> + +<p>"But—he is—Arthur's friend!"</p> + +<p>"Friend—nothin'!" said he, wringing and wrenching at the neckerchief, +"I guess you ain't found out how th' Kid an' him came t' meet, eh? Well, +I'll tell ye—listen! Your brother broke in to this millionaire's swell +house—through the winder—an' this millionaire caught him."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said she, smiling in bitter scorn, "what a clumsy liar you are, +Bud M'Ginnis!"</p> + +<p>"No," he cried eagerly, "no, I ain't tellin' ye no lies; it's God's own +truth I'm givin' ye."</p> + +<p>"No, you're just a liar, Bud M'Ginnis!" and she would have turned from +him, but his savage grip stayed her.</p> + +<p>"A liar, am I?" he cried. "Why, then, you're sister to a crook, see! +Your brother's a thief! a crook! You ain't got much t' be s' proud +over—"</p> + +<p>"Let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Listen! Your brother got into this guy's house t' steal, and this +millionaire guy caught him—in the act! An' havin' nothin' better t' do, +he makes young Spike bring him down here—just t' see th' kind o' folks +as lives in Hell's Kitchen, see? Then he meets you—you look kind o' +good t' him, so he says t' th' Kid, 'Look here,' he says, 'you help me +game along with y'r sister, an' we'll call it quits—'"</p> + +<p>Breaking from his hold, Hermione entered the little parlour, and +sinking down beside the table, crouched there, hiding her face, while +M'Ginnis, leaning in the doorway, watched her, his strong hands twisting +and wrenching at the neckerchief.</p> + +<p>"Ah, leave me now!" she pleaded, "you've done enough, so—go now—go!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll go. I come here t' put ye wise—an' I have! You're on to it +all now, I guess. Nooport and Fifth Av'ner's a good ways from Hell's +Kitchen and Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't never come together. I guess +there's sure some difference between this swell guy with all his +millions an' a Tenth Av'ner girl as is a—thief's sister—"</p> + +<p>Slowly Hermione lifted her head and looked up at him, and M'Ginnis saw +that in her face which struck him mute; the neckerchief fell from his +nerveless fingers and lay there all unheeded.</p> + +<p>"Hermione," he muttered, "I—girl, are ye—sick?"</p> + +<p>"Go!" she whispered, "go!"</p> + +<p>And turning about, M'Ginnis stumbled out of the place and left her +alone. For a long time she sat there, motionless and crouched above the +table, staring blindly before her, and in her eyes an agony beyond +tears, heedless of the flight of time, conscious only of a pain sharper +than flesh can know. Suddenly a key was thrust in the lock of the outer +door, footsteps sounded along the passage accompanied by a merry +whistling, and Spike appeared.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Hermy, ain't tea ready yet?" he enquired, tossing aside his +straw hat and opening a newspaper he carried, "say, the Giants are sure +playin' great ball this season—what, are ye asleep?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Hermy," he exclaimed, dropping the paper and clasping an arm about +her, "Oh, Hermy—what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, boy—dear, dear boy—you didn't, did you?" she cried feverishly. +"You are a little wild—sometimes, dear, just a little—but you are +good—and honourable, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Hermy I—I try t' be," he answered uneasily; "but I don't +know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"You're not a thief, are you? You're not a burglar? You never broke into +any one's house. I know you didn't, but—tell me you didn't—tell me you +didn't!"</p> + +<p>"No—no, o' course not," stammered Spike and, averting his head, tried +to draw away, but she clung to him all the closer.</p> + +<p>"Boy—boy dear," she whispered breathlessly, "oh, boy, look at me!"</p> + +<p>But seeing he kept his face still turned from her, she set a hand to his +cheek and very gently forced him to meet her look. For a long moment she +gazed thus—saw how his eyes quailed, saw how his cheek blanched, and as +he cowered away, she rose slowly to her feet, and into her look came a +growing horror; beholding which Spike covered his face and shrank away +from her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, boy—" her voice had sunk to a whisper now, "oh, boy—say you +didn't!"</p> + +<p>"Hermy—I—can't—"</p> + +<p>"Can't?"</p> + +<p>"It's—it's all—true. Yes, I did! Oh, Hermy, forgive me."</p> + +<p>"Tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, forgive me, Hermy, forgive me!" he cried, reaching out and trying +to catch her hand. "Yes, I'll tell ye. I—I got in—through th' winder, +an' Geoff caught me. But he let me go again—he said he'd never tell +nobody if—ah, don't look at me like that!"</p> + +<p>"If—what?"</p> + +<p>"If I'd bring him back here with me—Hermy, don't! Your eyes hurt +me—don't look at me that way."</p> + +<p>"So it—is—all—true!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, forgive me, forgive me!" he pleaded, throwing himself on his knees +before her and writhing in the anguish of remorse. "They doped me, +Hermy, I—didn't know what I was doin'—they didn't give me no time t' +think. Oh, forgive me, Hermy; Geoff forgave me, an' you must—oh, God, +you must, Hermy!" Again he sought to reach her hand, but now it was she +who shrank away.</p> + +<p>"I loved you so—I—loved—you so!" she said dully.</p> + +<p>"Hermy," he cried, catching hold of her dress, "forgive me—just this +once, for God's sake! I ain't got nobody in the world but you—forgive +me!" And now his pleading was broken by fierce sobs, and he sought to +hide his tear-stained face in the folds of her dress, but she drew it +quickly from him, shrinking away almost as if she feared him.</p> + +<p>"A thief!" she whispered, "oh, God—my brother a thief! I don't +seem—able to—think. Go away—go away, I—must be—alone!"</p> + +<p>"Hermy, dear, I swear—oh, I swear I'll—"</p> + +<p>"Go away!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hermy, I didn't think you'd ever—turn away—from me."</p> + +<p>"Go away!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hermy—won't you listen?"</p> + +<p>"I can't! Not now. Go away."</p> + +<p>Sobbing, the boy got to his feet, and taking his hat, crossed +slow-footed to the door; there he paused to look back at her, but her +staring eyes gazed through him and, turning hopelessly away, he brushed +his sleeve across his cheek and, treading slow and heavily along the +passage, was gone.</p> + +<p>Dry-eyed she stood awhile, then sank again beside the table and crouched +there with face bowed between outstretched arms, and hands tight +clenched. Evening began to fall, but still she sat huddled there, +motionless, and uttering no sound, and still her eyes were tearless. +At last she stirred, conscious of a quick, firm step near by, and, +thrilling to that sound, rose and stood with her back to the fading +light as Ravenslee entered.</p> + +<p>"Dear," said he, tender and eager, "I found the door open—did you leave +it for me? Why, Hermione—oh, my love, what is it?" and he would have +caught her to him, but she held him away and questioned him, +quick-breathing:</p> + +<p>"You are—Geoffrey Ravenslee—the millionaire—aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Why—er—I—I'm afraid I am," he stammered. "I'm sorry you found it out +so soon, dearest; I wanted to tell you after we—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, why didn't you tell me before—why didn't you? No—please wait! +You—you caught my—brother, didn't you?" she went on breathlessly; "he +had broken in—was burgling your house, wasn't he—wasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"How in the world," began Ravenslee, flinching, "who told—"</p> + +<p>"He broke into your house to—steal, didn't he—didn't he?"</p> + +<p>"But, good heavens—that was all forgotten and done with long ago! +They'd made the poor chap drunk—he didn't know what he was doing—it's +all forgotten long ago! Dear heart, why are you so pale? God, +Hermione—nothing can alter our love!"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing can alter our love," she repeated in the same dull tones. +"Oh, no, nothing can ever alter that; even though you deceived me I +shall always love you, I can't help it. And just because I do love you +so, and because I am a thief's sister, I—oh, I can never be your +wife—I couldn't, could I?"</p> + +<p>"By God, Hermione, but you shall!" As he spoke he caught her in his +arms, passionate arms that drew and held her close. Very still and +unresisting she lay in his embrace, uttering no word; and stooping, he +kissed her fiercely—her lips, her eyes, her white throat, her hair, +and, silent still, she yielded herself to his caresses.</p> + +<p>"You are mine, Hermione, mine always and forever! You are the one woman +I long for—the wife nature intended for me! You are mine, Hermione!"</p> + +<p>Very softly she answered, her eyes closed:</p> + +<p>"I felt at the first there was a gulf dividing us—and now—this gulf +is wider—so wide it can never be crossed by either of us. Your world is +not my world, after all—you are Geoffrey Ravenslee and I am only—what +I am. Newport and Fifth Avenue are a long way from Hell's Kitchen and +Tenth Avenue, and they can never—never come together. And I—am a +thief's sister, so please, please loose me—oh, have mercy and—let me +go."</p> + +<p>His arms fell from her and, shivering, she sank beside the table, and +the pale agony of her face smote him.</p> + +<p>"But you love me, Hermione?" he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"If I had only known," she sighed, "I might not have learned to love +you—quite so much! If I had only known!" Her voice was soft and low, +her blue eyes wide and tearless, and because of this, he trembled.</p> + +<p>"Hermione," said he gently, "all this week I have been planning for you +and Arthur. I have been dreaming of our life together, yours and mine, +a life so big, so wonderful, so full of happiness that I trembled, +sometimes, dreading it was only a dream. Dear, the gates of our paradise +are open; will you shut me out? Must I go back to my loneliness?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be lonely, too!" she murmured brokenly. "But better, oh, far +better loneliness than that some day—" she paused, her lips quivering.</p> + +<p>"Some day, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>"You should find that you had married not only a scrubwoman but—the +sister of a—thief!" Suddenly she sprang to her feet, her clinging arms +held him to her bosom and, drawing down his head, she pressed her mouth +to his; holding him thus, she spoke, her voice low and quick and +passionate:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my love, my love! I do love you with every thought, with every part +of me—so much, so very much that my heart is breaking, I think. But, +dearest, my love is such that I would be everything fair and beautiful +for you, everything proud and good and noble for you if I could. But I +am only Hermy Chesterton, a Tenth Avenue girl, and—my brother—So I'm +going to send you away, back to your own world, back to your own kind +because—because I do love you so! Ah, God, never doubt my love, +but—you must go—"</p> + +<p>"Never, Hermione, never!"</p> + +<p>"You must! You will, I know, because your love is a big, generous +love—because you are chivalrous and strong and gentle—because I beg +and implore you if you have any pity for me—go—"</p> + +<p>"But why?—Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, must I tell you that—can't you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Why must I go, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>"Because," she murmured, her yearning arms close about him, her face +close hidden against his breast, "because I'll never—marry +you—now—but I love you—love you so much that I'm afraid—ah, not of +you. So, I must be alone—quite alone—to fight my battle. And now—now +that I've shown you all my heart, told you all my weakness, you'll go +for my sake—just for my sake—won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I'll—go!" he answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"Away from here—to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered hoarsely, "yes!"</p> + +<p>Then Hermione fell suddenly before him on her knees, and, before he +could stay her, had caught his hands, kissing them, wetting them with +her tears, and pressing them passionately to her bosom.</p> + +<p>"I knew," she cried, "I knew that you were strong and gentle and—good. +Good-by—oh, my love—good-by!"</p> + +<p>"Hermione," said he, kissing her bowed head, "oh, my Hermione, I love +you with a love that will die only when I do. I want you, and I'll never +lose hope of winning you—some day, never give up my determination to +marry you—never, so help me God!"</p> + +<p>Then swiftly he turned away but, reaching the door, stooped and picked +up M'Ginnis's neckerchief and, recognising it, crumpled it in fierce +hand; so, with it clenched in griping fingers, he hurried away and left +her there upon her knees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE DEPARTED FROM HELL'S KITCHEN</h3> + + +<p>"What, back again already, Mr. Geoffrey?" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, poking +her head around the kitchen door, as Ravenslee entered the flat, "back +so soon?"</p> + +<p>"Only for a minute, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Supper'll be ready soon—your wedding supper, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? You'll +have it here with me, you an' Hermy, o' course! Smells kind o' good, +don't it?"</p> + +<p>"Delicious, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"Delicious is the word, Mr. Geoffrey—stooed beef with carrots—"</p> + +<p>"And onions, Mrs. Trapes—onions, I'm sure?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll not deny a onion here an' there, Mr. Geoffrey—a stoo needs +'em."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I knew it!" sighed Ravenslee. "I grieve that I shan't be able to +eat it."</p> + +<p>"Not eat—what, you? Say, y' ain't sick, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Not in body, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Then why no stoo?"</p> + +<p>"Because I shan't be here. I'm going, Mrs. Trapes—I'm leaving +Mulligan's now—for good—"</p> + +<p>"Leavin'—y' mean with Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"No—alone. Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"My land!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, "what you tellin' me?"</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>"But why? Oh, dear Lord, what is it? Who—"</p> + +<p>"I want to thank you—for all your kindness. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>As one in a dream Mrs. Trapes extended a limp hand and stood wide of +eye and pale of cheek to watch him go; and as he descended the stairs, +her look of helpless, pained surprise went with him. Swiftly he strode +across that familiar court, shoulders squared, chin outthrust, and eyes +that glowed ominously in his pale face beneath fierce-scowling brows. As +he turned into Tenth Avenue there met him the Spider.</p> + +<p>"What you chasin' this time, bo?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"M'Ginnis."</p> + +<p>"Then you're sure chasin' trouble."</p> + +<p>"That's what I want. D' you know where he is?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I do, but—"</p> + +<p>The Spider paused, drawing in his breath slowly, as with experienced +gaze he viewed Ravenslee's pale, set face—the delicate nostrils wide +and quivering, the relentless mouth and burning eyes and all the +repressed ferocity of him and, drawing back a step, the Spider shook his +head.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said he, "that's jest what I ain't goin' t' tell ye."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I must find him."</p> + +<p>"Don't!" said the Spider, walking on beside him, "if I didn't think a +whole lot o' ye, I'd lead ye t' him."</p> + +<p>"Oh—I shall find him, if it takes me all night."</p> + +<p>"An' if ye do, it'll be murder, I'm dead sure—"</p> + +<p>"Murder?" said Ravenslee with a flash of white teeth. "Well, I shall +certainly kill him—this time!"</p> + +<p>"Is it th' Kid again?"</p> + +<p>"No—oh, no, it's just for my own satisfaction—and pleasure."</p> + +<p>"You ain't heeled, are ye? This ain't goin' t' be no gun-play—eh?"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't a gun, but I've brought his—neckerchief."</p> + +<p>"Sufferin' Pete!" murmured the Spider in a strangely awed voice, and +walked on in silence, chewing viciously.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said he at last, "I'm thinkin' th' kindest thing I could do would +be t' slip one over t' your point while you wasn't lookin', an' puttin' +you t' sleep a bit—you want soothin'! Bud'll be too big fer you or any +other guy t' tackle now; ye see, his stock's rose—th' Noo Jersey +p'lice wasn't strong enough t' hold him—"</p> + +<p>"That's where I'm different—I can!" said Ravenslee, opening and +shutting his right hand convulsively. "Yes, I'll hold him till his last +kick—and after!"</p> + +<p>"My God!" exclaimed the Spider softly, and, beholding that clutching +right hand, he edged away.</p> + +<p>"Where you goin' t' look fer him?" he enquired after a while.</p> + +<p>"O'Rourke's!"</p> + +<p>"Why not try Raynor's first?" and he nodded to a saloon on the adjacent +corner.</p> + +<p>"Because I'm not a fool."</p> + +<p>"Bo, I ain't s' sure o' that! O'Rourke's'll be full o' tough guys +t'night; all th' bunch'll be there, an' if Bud tips 'em th' say-so, +they'll snuff your light out quicker 'n winkin'."</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't be such a hardship."</p> + +<p>"Oh, so that's it, hey? You got a kiss-me-an'-let-me-die sort o' +feelin', hey? Some nice bit o' stuff been turnin' ye down, bo?"</p> + +<p>"That'll be about enough!" said Ravenslee, quick and fierce; and, +meeting the flash of his eye, the Spider edged away again.</p> + +<p>"Sufferin' Mike!" said he, "you sure ain't doin' the affable chat stunt +t'night!"</p> + +<p>But Ravenslee strode along in silence, and the Spider, heeding the pale, +set ferocity of his expression, grew troubled.</p> + +<p>"Say," said he at last, "this don't happen t' be th' night as you've +fixed up t' smash th' gang, does it?"</p> + +<p>"No—only M'Ginnis."</p> + +<p>"S'posin' he ain't at O'Rourke's?"</p> + +<p>"He'll be somewhere else."</p> + +<p>"Bo, if I was your ma, I should be prayin' you don't find Bud, yes, sir! +An' I should pray—dam' hard!"</p> + +<p>By this time they had reached Eleventh Avenue and were close upon the +saloon when Ravenslee halted suddenly, for, beneath a lamp on the +opposite sidewalk, he saw M'Ginnis in talk with two other men.</p> + +<p>Drawing the neckerchief from his pocket, Ravenslee crossed over and +tapped M'Ginnis on the arm, who, turning about, stared into a pallid +face within a foot of his own.</p> + +<p>"What th' hell—" he began, but Ravenslee cut him short.</p> + +<p>"You left this behind you," said he, thrusting forward the neckerchief, +"so I've brought it to twist around that foul throat of yours. Now, +M'Ginnis—fight!"</p> + +<p>Thrusting the neckerchief into his pocket, Ravenslee clenched his fists, +and, saying no more, they closed and fought—not as men, but rather as +brute beasts eager to maim and rend.</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis's companions, dumbfounded by the sudden ferocity of it all, +stood awhile inactive, staring at those two forms that lurched and +swayed, that strove and panted, grimly speechless. Then, closing in, +they waited an opportunity to smite down M'Ginnis's foe from behind. But +the Spider was watching, and, before either of them could kick or +strike, his fists thudded home—twice—hard blows aimed with scientific +precision; after which, having dragged the fallen away from those +fierce-trampling feet, he stood, quivering and tense, to watch that +desperate encounter.</p> + +<p>Once Ravenslee staggered back from a vicious flush-hit, and once +M'Ginnis spun around to fall upon hands and knees; then they clenched, +and coming to the ground together, fought there, rolling to and fro and +hideously twisted together. But slowly Ravenslee's clean living began +to tell, and M'Ginnis, wriggling beneath a merciless grip, uttered +inarticulate cries and groaned aloud. And now the deadly neckerchief +was about his gasping throat and in his ears his conqueror's fierce +laugh—lost all at once in a roar of voices, a rush of trampling feet.</p> + +<p>Wrenched at by fierce hands, smitten by unseen fists, Ravenslee was +beaten down—was dimly aware of the Spider's long legs bestriding him, +and staggering up through a tempest of blows, hurled himself among his +crowding assailants, felled one with his right, stopped another with his +left, and, as the press broke to the mad fury of his onslaught, felt his +hand wrenched from a man's windpipe and heard a frantic voice that +panted:</p> + +<p>"Leg it, bo, leg it. Hully Chee! ain't ye had enough?" So, mechanically, +he set off at a run, with his arm still gripped by the Spider. "Leg it, +bo—leg it good, or here's where we snuff it sure! This way—round th' +corner; only keep goin', bo, keep goin'."</p> + +<p>Very fleetly they ran with their pursuers close on their heels, across +open lots, over fences, along tortuous alleys, until the rush and patter +of the many feet died away, and the Spider, pulling up at the corner of +a dismal, narrow street hard by the river, stood awhile to listen.</p> + +<p>"Jiminy Christmas! but you're some hot stuff at the swattin' +business—you're a glutton, you are, bo. I been in one or two scraps +meself, but I never seen a guy so hungry for—"</p> + +<p>"Where are we?"</p> + +<p>"Thirteenth an' Twentieth."</p> + +<p>"Are we safe?"</p> + +<p>"F' th' time, I reckon. But all Hell's Kitchen'll be out after us +t'night, sure. So I guess it's us for th' immediate hike—"</p> + +<p>"Us? Will they be after you, too?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Spider, smiling down grimly at his damaged, knuckles, +"I guess yes! Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner's got t' get along without +me from now on, I reckon. They ain't losin' much, an' I ain't leavin' +much, but—"</p> + +<p>"Why the devil had you got to follow me to-night?" demanded Ravenslee, +scowling.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said the Spider as they went on again, "there's times when my +likin' f'r you gets a pain; there's times when y'r talk gives me th' +earache, an' y'r lovin' looks the willies. I ain't lookin' f'r no +gratitood, nor yet a gold dinner-set an' loominated address, but, not +ownin' a hide like a sole-leather Saratoga, I'll jest get on me way—S' +long!"</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno, but—I'm goin' there, right now."</p> + +<p>But as the Spider turned away, his hand was caught and gripped, and +Ravenslee was smiling; his features looked a bit battered, but his smile +was pleasant as ever.</p> + +<p>"Forgive my cursed temper, Spider. I owe you my life again and—I ought +to be grateful, I suppose. Forgive me, I'm—not quite myself to-night."</p> + +<p>"Sure thing!" said the Spider, returning his grasp, "but, bo, I'm kind +o' wonderin' in me little mind what Bud's feelin' like! You sure swatted +him good an' heavy. I never seen cleaner footwork, an' them left jabs o' +yours—"</p> + +<p>"The question is, how do you feel, Spider, and what are you going to +do?"</p> + +<p>The pugilist scratched his rough chin. "Well, that's what gets my goat; +I dunno quite, bo. Y' see, I shan't be able t' get no more fights here +in the East now, not wi' Bud 'n' his old man against me—y' see, Bud's +old man's about the biggest—"</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you'd care to come with me?"</p> + +<p>"Whaffor?"</p> + +<p>"Well, for one thing, I need another chauffeur and—"</p> + +<p>"A—what?" The Spider halted under a lamp-post to stare at Ravenslee a +little anxiously. "Say, now, take a holt of ye'self an' jest put that +one over th' plate again—you need a—what?"</p> + +<p>"Another chauffeur."</p> + +<p>"Another shuvver—another? Bo, y' didn't happen t' get a soak on th' +bean just now, did ye?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I guess you're some shook up; what you want's food, right +now!"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, now you mention it, I'm devilish hungry," agreed Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Leave it t' me, bo—I know a chewin'-joint close by—soup, joint, +sweets, an' coffee an' only a quarter a throw—some feed, bo! Shin right +along, I'll—"</p> + +<p>"No, you shall come home and dine with me."</p> + +<p>"Home?" repeated the Spider, halting to stare again; "you're sure +talkin' ramblin'—"</p> + +<p>"We can discuss the chauffeur's job then—"</p> + +<p>"Shuvver?" said the Spider uneasily. "But what's a guy like you want +with a shuvver?"</p> + +<p>"Well, to drive my car—and—"</p> + +<p>"Car?" said the Spider, his uneasiness growing, "got a car now, have ye, +bo?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think I've got six."</p> + +<p>"Sufferin' Sam!" The Spider scratched his chin while his keen eyes roved +over Ravenslee's exterior apprehensively. "Say, bo, you quite sure none +o' th' bunch booted you on th' dome—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure."</p> + +<p>"An' yet you got six auter-mobiles. I say—you think so."</p> + +<p>"Now I think again, they're seven with the newest racer."</p> + +<p>"Say, now, jest holt still a minute! Now, swaller twice, think dam' +hard, an' tell me again! You got how many?"</p> + +<p>"Seven!"</p> + +<p>"Got anythin' else?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, a few things."</p> + +<p>"Tell us jest one."</p> + +<p>"Well, a yacht."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a yacht?"</p> + +<p>"A yacht."</p> + +<p>"'S 'nuff, bo, 's 'nuff! But go on—go on, get it all off if you'll feel +better after. Anythin' more?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, about twenty or thirty houses and castles and palaces and +things—"</p> + +<p>"That settles it sure!" sighed the Spider. "You're comin' t' see a +doctor, that's what! Your dome's sure got bent in with a boot or +somethin'."</p> + +<p>"No, Spider, I just happen to be born the son of a millionaire, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Think o' that, now!" nodded the Spider, "a millionaire now—how nice! +An' what do they call ye at home?"</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey Ravenslee."</p> + +<p>"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, falling back a step. "The guy as went +ten rounds with Dick Dunoon at th' 'National?' The guy as won th' +Auter-mobile Race? Th' guy as bought up Mulligan's—you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. By the way, I sat in the front row and watched you lick Larry +McKinnon at 'Frisco; I was afraid you were going to recognise me, once +or twice."</p> + +<p>"Then, you—you <i>have</i> got a yacht, th' big one as lays off Twenty-third +Street?"</p> + +<p>"Also seven cars; that's why I want you for a chauffeur."</p> + +<p>"Ho-ly Gee!" murmured the dazed Spider. "Well, say, you sure have got me +goin'! A millionaire! A peanut cart! A yacht! Well, say, I—I guess it's +time I got on me way. S' long!"</p> + +<p>"No you don't, my Spider; you're coming home with me."</p> + +<p>"What—me? Not much I ain't—no, sir! I ain't no giddy gink t' go dinin' +with millionaires in open-faced clo'es—not me!"</p> + +<p>"But you're coming to have dinner with that same peanut man who learned +to respect you because you were a real, white man, Spider Connolly. And +that's another reason why I want you for my chauffeur."</p> + +<p>"But—say, I—I can't shuv."</p> + +<p>"Joe shall teach you."</p> + +<p>"Joe? Y' mean—Joe Madden?"</p> + +<p>"He'll be chauffeur number one—and there's a cross-town car! Come on, +Spider! Now—in with you!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES A HAND</h3> + + +<p>O'Rourke's was full: its long bar, shaped something like the letter J, +supported many lounging arms and elbows; its burnished foot-rail was +scraped by boots of many shapes and sizes; its heavy air, thick with +cigarette smoke, hummed with many voices. In one corner, a remote corner +where few ventured to penetrate, Soapy leaned, as pallid and +noncommittal as ever, while Spike poured out to him the story of his +woes.</p> + +<p>"She drove me out, Soapy! She drove me away from her!" he repeated for +the hundredth time. The boy was unnaturally flushed and bright of eye, +and his voice was as shaky as the hand which fidgeted with his whisky +glass; and the sense of his wrongs was great and growing greater with +every sip.</p> + +<p>"She told me t' leave her! She drove me away from her—"</p> + +<p>"So you come here, eh, Kid?" drawled Soapy, pendent cigarette +smouldering. "You skinned over here t' Bud f' comfort, an' you'll sure +get it, Kid—in a glass!"</p> + +<p>"Bud's always good t' me—"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid, 's right, Bud's an angel sure, though he ain't got no +wings yet. Oh, Bud'll comfort ye—frequent, an' by an' by he'll take ye +back t' Hermy good an' soused; you can get your own back that ways—eh, +Kid? It'll sure make her sit up an' take notice when she sees ye come in +reelin' an' staggerin'—eh, Kid? An' to-morrow you'll be sick mebbe, an' +she'll have ter nurse ye—oh, Bud'll fix things fer ye, I guess." Spike +glowered and pushed his half-emptied glass further away.</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' home soused!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"No?" said Soapy, faintly surprised. "Bud'll feel kind o' hurt, won't +he?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' home soused—not for Bud nor nobody else!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, if I was you, Kid, I should beat it before Bud comes in."</p> + +<p>"I guess I will," said Spike, rising.</p> + +<p>But now was sudden uproar of voices in the street hard by, a running +and trampling of feet, and, the swing doors opening, a group of men +appeared, bearing among them a heavy burden; and coming to the quiet +corner they laid M'Ginnis there. Battered, bloody, and torn he lay, +his handsome features swollen and disfigured, his clothes dusty and +dishevelled, while above him and around him men stooped and peered and +whispered.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's—it's—Bud!" stammered Spike, shrinking away from that +inanimate form, "my God! It's—Bud!"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy imperturbably, hands in pockets and, +though his voice sounded listless as ever, his eyes gleamed evilly, +and the dangling cigarette quivered and stirred.</p> + +<p>"Ain't—dead, is he?" some one questioned.</p> + +<p>"Dead—not much!" answered Soapy, "guess it's goin' to take more 'n that +t' make Bud a stiff 'un. Besides, Bud ain't goin' t' die that way, no, +not—that way, I reckon. Dead? Watch this!" So saying, he reached +Spike's half-emptied glass from the bar and, not troubling to stoop, +poured the raw spirit down upon M'Ginnis's pale, blood-smirched face.</p> + +<p>"Dead?" said Soapy. "Well, I guess not—look at him!"</p> + +<p>And, sure enough, M'Ginnis stirred, groaned, opened swollen eyelids and, +aided by some ready arm, sat up feebly. Then he glanced up at the ring +of peering faces and down upon his rent and dusty person, and fell to a +sudden, fierce torrent of curses; cursing thus, his strength seemed to +return all at once, for he sprang to his feet and with clenched fists +drove through the crowd, and lifting a flap in the bar, opened a door +beyond and was gone.</p> + +<p>"No," said Soapy, shaking his head, "I guess Bud ain't dead—yet, +fellers. I wonder who gave him that eye, Kid? An' his mouth too! Did ye +pipe them split lips! Kind o' painful, I guess. An' a couple o' teeth +knocked out too! Some punchin', Kid! An' Bud kind o' fancied them nice, +white teeth of his a whole heap!"</p> + +<p>Here the bartender glanced toward the corner where they stood, and, +lifting an eyebrow, jerked his thumb at the door behind him with the +words: "Kid, I reckon Bud wants ye."</p> + +<p>For a moment Spike hesitated then, lifting the mahogany flap, crossed +the bar, and opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Guess I'll come along, Kid," and, hands in pockets, Soapy followed.</p> + +<p>They found M'Ginnis sprawling at a table and scowling at the knuckles of +his bruised right hand while at his elbow were a bottle and two glasses. +He had washed the blood and dirt from him, had brushed and straightened +his dusty garments, but he couldn't hide the cuts and bruises that +disfigured his face, nor his scratched and swollen throat.</p> + +<p>"What you here for?" he demanded, as Soapy closed the door, "didn't send +for you, did I?"</p> + +<p>"No, that's why I come, Bud."</p> + +<p>"But, say, Bud, what—what's been th' matter?" stammered Spike, his gaze +upon M'Ginnis's battered face, "who's been—"</p> + +<p>"Matter? Nothin'! I had a bit of a rough-house as I come along—"</p> + +<p>"'S right," nodded Soapy, "you sure look it! Never seen a fatter eye—"</p> + +<p>"Well, what you got t' beef about?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin', Bud, only—"</p> + +<p>"Only what?"</p> + +<p>"It's kind o' tough you losin' them couple o' teeth—or is it three?"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis turned on him with a snarl. "A-r-r-, you—! Some day I'm goin' +t' kick the insides out o' ye!"</p> + +<p>"Some day, Bud, sure. I'll be waitin'! Meantime why not get some +doctor-guy t' put ye face back in shape—gee, I hate t' see ye—you look +like a butcher's shop! An' them split lips pains some, I guess!"</p> + +<p>Here, while M'Ginnis choked in impotent rage, Soapy lit a fresh +cigarette from the butt of the last and held out the packet.</p> + +<p>"Try a coffin-nail, Bud? No? Well, I guess y' couldn't smoke good with a +mouth on ye like that."</p> + +<p>"Who did it, Bud?" questioned Spike eagerly. "Who was it?"</p> + +<p>"Hush up, Kid, hush up!" said Soapy, viewing M'Ginnis's cuts and bruises +with glistening eyes. "I guess that guy's layin' around somewheres +waitin' f'r th' coroner—Bud wouldn't let him make such a holy mess +of his face an' get away with it—not much! Bud's a killer, I know +that—don't I, Bud?"</p> + +<p>"You close up that dog's head o' yours, Soapy, or by—"</p> + +<p>"'S all right, Bud, 's all right. Don't get peeved; I'll close up +tighter 'n a clam, only—it's kinder tough about them teeth—"</p> + +<p>"Are ye goin' t' cut it out or shall—"</p> + +<p>"Aw, calm down, Bud, calm down! Take a drink; it'll do ye good." And +filling a glass with rye whisky, Soapy set it before M'Ginnis, who +cursed him, took it up, and turned to Spike.</p> + +<p>"Fill it up, Kid," he commanded.</p> + +<p>"Not me, Bud, I—I ain't here for that," said Spike. "I come t' tell ye +as some dirty guy's been an' blown th' game on me t' Hermy; she—she +knows everything, an' to-night she—drove me away from her—"</p> + +<p>"Did she, Kid, oh, did she?" said M'Ginnis, a new note of eagerness in +his voice. "Drove ye out onto th' streets, Kid? That's dam' hard on +you!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Bud, I—guess she—don't want me around—"</p> + +<p>"Kind o' looks that way!" nodded M'Ginnis, and filling Spike's glass, +he put it into the boy's unwilling fingers. "Take a drink, Kid; ye sure +need it!" said he.</p> + +<p>"'S right," murmured Soapy, "told ye Bud 'ud comfort ye, didn't I, Kid?"</p> + +<p>"So Hermy's drove ye away?" said M'Ginnis, "throwed ye out—eh?"</p> + +<p>"She sure has, Bud, an' I—Oh, I'm miserable as hell!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, get some o' Bud's comfort into ye, Kid," murmured Soapy. +"Lap it up good, Kid; there's plenty more—in th' bottle!"</p> + +<p>"Let him alone," growled M'Ginnis, "he don't want you buttin' in!"</p> + +<p>"'S right, too, Bud!" nodded Soapy, "he's got you, ain't he? An' +you—got him, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't think Hermy 'ud ever treat me—like this!" said Spike +tearfully.</p> + +<p>"You mean—throwin' ye out into th' streets, Kid? Why, I been expectin' +it!"</p> + +<p>"Expectin' it?" repeated Spike, setting down his glass and staring, +"why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she's a girl, ain't she, an' they're all th' same, I reckon—"</p> + +<p>"An' Bud knows all about girls, Kid!" murmured Soapy. "Bud's wise t' all +their tricks—ain't you, Bud?"</p> + +<p>"But whatcher mean?" cried Spike. "What ye mean about expectin' it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she don't want ye no more, does she?" answered M'Ginnis, his +bruised hands fierce clenched, his voice hoarse and thick with passion. +"She's got some one else now—ain't she? She's—in love—ain't she? +She's all waked up an' palpitatin' for—for that dam'—" he choked, and +set one hand to his scratched throat.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean, Bud?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Soapy, softer than before, "I'm on, Bud; you put me wise! He +means, Kid, as Hermy's in love with th' guy as has just been punchin' +hell out of him—he means your pal Geoff." With a hoarse, strangling +cry, M'Ginnis leapt up, his hand flashed behind him, and—he stood +suddenly very still, staring into the muzzle of the weapon Soapy had +levelled from his hip.</p> + +<p>"Aw, quit it, Bud, quit it," he sighed, "it ain't come t' that—yet. +Besides, the Kid's here, so loose ye gun, Bud. No, give it t'me; you're +a bit on edge t'night, I guess, an' it might go off an' break a glass or +somethin'. So gimme ye gun, Bud. That's it! Now we can sit an' talk real +sociable, can't we? Now listen, Bud—what you want is t' get your own +back on this guy Geoff, an' what th' Kid wants is t' show his sister as +he ain't a kid, an' what I want is t' give ye both a helpin' hand—"</p> + +<p>But while M'Ginnis stood scowling at the imperturbable speaker, Spike +rose, a little unsteadily, and turned to the door.</p> + +<p>"I'll be gettin' on me way, Bud," said he.</p> + +<p>"Where to?"</p> + +<p>"Home."</p> + +<p>"What! Back t' Hermy? After she turned ye out?"</p> + +<p>"But I—I got t' go somewheres—"</p> + +<p>"Well, you stay right here with me, Kid; I'll fix ye up all right—"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy. "Bud'll fix ye all right, same as I +said; we'll have in another bottle when that's empty!"</p> + +<p>"What about your sister, Kid?" demanded M'Ginnis fiercely. "What about +Hermy an' this swell guy? Are y' goin' t' sit around an' do nothin'?"</p> + +<p>"But Geoff's goin' t' marry her."</p> + +<p>"Marry her! What, him? A millionaire marry your sister? You think so, +an' she thinks so, but I know different!"</p> + +<p>"But Hermy ain't that sort. Hermy's—good—"</p> + +<p>"Sure, but this guy's got her fazed—she thinks he's square all +right—she'll trust him an' then—s'posin' he ain't?"</p> + +<p>"I—I ain't s'posin' nothin' like that!" said Spike, gulping his +whisky.</p> + +<p>"Well, s'posin' he's been meetin' her—in a wood—on the sly—eh? +S'posin' they been huggin' an' kissin'—"</p> + +<p>"Say now—you cut that out—" stammered Spike, his voice thick. "I tell +ye—she ain't—that kind."</p> + +<p>"S'posin'," continued Bud, refilling the lad's glass, "s'posin' I could +show 'em to ye in a wood—eh? Ah! What she want t' meet him in a wood +for, anyway—nice an' quiet, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Say now, Bud, I—I ain't goin' t' listen t' no more!" said Spike, +rising and clutching at the table, "I—I'm goin' home!" And swaying on +unsteady feet, he turned to the door, but M'Ginnis gripped his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, Kid."</p> + +<p>"N-no, I'm—goin' home—see!" said Spike, setting his jaw obstinately, +"I'm goin'—r-right now!"</p> + +<p>"That's just what you ain't!" snarled M'Ginnis. "Sit down! Hermy's only +a work-girl—don't forget that, Kid—an' this guy's a millionaire. I +guess he thinks Hermy'll do—till he gets tired of her an'—then what?"</p> + +<p>"He—told me he's goin' t' marry her!" said Spike slowly, speaking with +an effort, "an' I guess Geoff ain't a liar. An' I wanter—go home."</p> + +<p>"Home—after she throwed ye out? Ain't ye got no pride?"</p> + +<p>"Aw, say, Bud," sighed Soapy, "I guess d' Kid ain't soused enough for +pride yet; sling another glass int' him—that'll fix him good, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>"I ain't g-goin' t' drink no more," said Spike, resting heavy head +between his hands, "I guess I'll b-beat it home, f'lers."</p> + +<p>"Bud," suggested Soapy, "ain't it about time you rang in little Maggie +on him?"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis whirled upon the speaker, snarling, but Soapy, having lighted +another cigarette, nudged Spike with a sharp elbow.</p> + +<p>"Kid," said he, "Bud's goin' t' remind ye of little Maggie Finlay—you +remember little Maggie as drowned herself." Spike lifted a pale face +and stared from the placid Soapy to scowling Bud and shrank away.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he whispered hoarsely, "yes—I'll never forget how she +looked—pale, so pale an' still, an' th' water—runnin' out of her brown +curls—I—I'll never forget—"</p> + +<p>"Well," growled M'Ginnis, "watch out Hermy don't end th' same way."</p> + +<p>"No!" cried Spike. "Oh, my God—no!"</p> + +<p>"What's she meetin' this millionaire in a wood for—on the sly?"</p> + +<p>"She don't! Hermy ain't like that."</p> + +<p>"I tell ye she does!" cried M'Ginnis, "an' him kissin' an' squeezin' her +an'—nobody by—"</p> + +<p>"It's a lie, Bud—she—she wouldn't!"</p> + +<p>"S'posin' I could show ye? S'pose you see him there—waitin' for her—"</p> + +<p>"If—if he means any harm t' Hermy, I—I'll kill him!"</p> + +<p>"Aw—you wouldn't have the nerve, Kid!"</p> + +<p>"I'd shoot him dead—by God, I would!"</p> + +<p>"You ain't man enough, Kid."</p> + +<p>"You g-give me a gun an' see. I'd shoot any one t' save my sister +from—th' river. Oh, my God—I—I'd die for her, an' she don't love me +no more!" And leaning his head upon his arms, Spike burst into a passion +of tears. M'Ginnis watched him awhile, then, filling the boy's glass, +clapped him on the shoulder and held it to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Neck this, Kid," said he, "neck it all—so, that's good, ain't it? +To-morrow evenin' I'll take ye where they meet; maybe you'll ketch him +waitin' for her—but instead of Hermy an' kisses there'll be you an' me, +hey? Will ye come?"</p> + +<p>"S-sure I will if—you'll gimme—your gun."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, Kid—what's a kid like you want with a gun?"</p> + +<p>"T'shoot him—"</p> + +<p>"Eh? What? D'ye mean—?"</p> + +<p>"If he's after my sister, I'll—kill him! I will, by God, I will!"</p> + +<p>"'S right," nodded Soapy, staring into the boy's drawn face, "'s right, +Bud; if ever I see a killer—th' Kid's sure it!"</p> + +<p>Slowly the glare died out of Spike's eyes, his body drooped, and +sighing, he pillowed his heavy head upon the table and fell into a +drunken slumber. For a while the two men sat there hearkening to his +stertorous breathing, then Soapy laughed soft and mirthlessly. "You sure +got th' Kid all worked up an' mad enough t'—kill, eh, Bud? If he does +get up against this guy Geoff—this guy Geoff's sure goin' t' cash +in—sudden. Consequently, I guess you'll be wantin' paper an' +pencil—both here!"</p> + +<p>"What th' hell—" began M'Ginnis.</p> + +<p>"Telegram, Bud. You're goin' t' frame up a nice little telegram t' this +guy Geoff—oh, you sure are th' fly gazebo! A nice little message—'meet +me t'morrow in the wood at sunset—Hermy?' Somethin' nice 'n' romantic +like that'll bring him on th' run—eh, Bud? Then, 'stead of Hermy, comes +you an' th' Kid, eh, Bud? An' 'stead of kisses, this guy Geoff gets a +lead pill—eh, Bud? Th' Kid can't miss if you get him close enough. It +sure is some scheme, Bud; I couldn't have thought it out better myself. +Paper 'n' pencil, Bud—get busy an' I'll sashay over an' send it off for +ye—t'night."</p> + +<p>During Soapy's unusually long speech, M'Ginnis sat staring at him under +frowning brows, but now he turned and scowled down at the sheet of +paper, picked up the pencil, laid it by again and sat opening and +shutting his big hands, while Soapy, lighting another cigarette, watched +him furtively. When at last he spoke, his voice was thick, and he didn't +lift his scowling gaze.</p> + +<p>"Send that kid Larry t' me, an' say—you don't have t' come back."</p> + +<p>"All right, Bud, all right—only you'd best send two telegrams t' make +sure—one t' Fift' Av, an' one t' his place up th' river. S' long, +Buddy!"</p> + +<p>Some fifteen minutes later, the boy Larry, stepping out of O'Rourke's, +was swung to the wall in Soapy's grip.</p> + +<p>"Aw—say, cheese it now! Is that you, Soapy?"</p> + +<p>"'S right, my bucko. Fork out that telegram—quick!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, say, what yer mean—'n' say, Bud told me to hustle, 'n' say—"</p> + +<p>"Dig it out—quick!" said Soapy, the dangling cigarette glowing +fiercely. "I want it—see?"</p> + +<p>"But say—" whimpered Larry, "what'll Bud say—"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'! Bud ain't goin' t' know. You take this instead—take it!" And +Soapy thrust another folded paper into the boy's limp hand, who took it +whimpering.</p> + +<p>"Bud tol' me t' bring it back."</p> + +<p>"Well, you tell him you lost it."</p> + +<p>"Not much—I'll skin right back an' tell him you pinched it."</p> + +<p>"You won't, my sport, you won't!" said Soapy, and speaking, moved +suddenly; and the boy, uttering a gasp of terror, shrank cowering with +the muzzle of Soapy's deadly weapon against the pit of his stomach. "You +ain't goin' t' say a word t' Bud nor nobody else, are ye, Larry boy, are +ye?"</p> + +<p>"No—no—"</p> + +<p>"Because if ye ever did, old sport, I should give it ye there—right +there in the tum-tum, see? Now chase off, an' see ye get them addresses +right. S'long, Larry boy, be good now!" When the boy had scudded away, +Soapy opened the paper and scanned the words of M'Ginnis's telegram and, +being alone, smiled as he glanced through it.</p> + +<p>"You got th' Kid, Bud," he murmured, "you got th' Kid—but if th' Kid +gets the guy Geoff, why—I've sure got you, Bud—got ye sure as hell, +Bud!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>OF HARMONY AND DISCORD</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Brimberly, comfortably ensconced in Young R.'s favourite armchair, +nodded ponderously and beat time to the twang of Mr. Jenkins's banjo, +whereto Mr. Stevens sang in a high-pitched and rather shaky tenor the +latest musical success yclept "Sammy." Thus, Mr. Jenkins strummed, Mr. +Stevens trilled, and Mr. Brimberly alternately beat the tempo with a +plump white finger and sipped his master's champagne until, having +emptied his glass, he turned to the bottle on the table beside him, +found that empty also, crossed to the two bottles on the mantel, found +them likewise void and had tried the two upon the piano with no better +success, when, the song being ended, Mr. Jenkins struck in with:</p> + +<p>"All dead men, Brim! Six of 'em between us—not bad going, what?"</p> + +<p>"And very good fizz too, on the whole!" added Mr. Stevens. "I always +sing better on champagne. But come, Brim my boy, I've obliged with +everything I know, and Jenk, 'e 's played everything 'e knows, and +I must say with great delicacy an' feelin'—now it's your +turn—somethin'."</p> + +<p>"Well," answered Mr. Brimberly, squinting at an empty bottle, "I used to +know a very good song once, called 'Let's drownd all our sorrers and +cares.' But good 'eavens! we can't drownd 'em in empty bottles, can we?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very good!" chuckled Mr. Jenkins, "oh, very prime! If I might +suggest, there's nothin' like port—port's excellent tipple for +drowndin' sorrer and downing care—what?"</p> + +<p>"Port, sir?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "we 'ave enough port in our +cellars to drownd every sorrer an' care in Noo York City. I'm proud of +our port, sir, and I'm reckoned a bit of a connysoor—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, it takes a eddicated palate to appreciate good port!" nodded Mr. +Jenkins loftily, "a eddicated palate—what?"</p> + +<p>"Cert'nly!" added Mr. Stevens, "an' here's two palates waitin', waitin' +an' ready to appreciate till daylight doth appear."</p> + +<p>"There's nothin' like port!" sighed Mr. Brimberly, setting aside the +empty champagne bottle, "nothin' like port, and there's Young Har 'ardly +can tell it from sherry—oh, the Goth! the Vandyle! All this good stuff +would be layin' idle if it wasn't for me! Young Har ain't got no right +to be a millionaire; 'is money's wasted on 'im—he neglects 'is +opportoonities shameful—eh, shameful! What I say is—what's the use +of bein' a millionaire if you don't air your millions?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Mr. Jenkins rocked himself to and fro over his banjo in a +polite ecstasy of mirth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by Jove!" he gasped, "if that ain't infernal clever, I'll be shot! +Oh, doocid clever I call it—what!"</p> + +<p>"Er—by the way, Brim," said Mr. Stevens, his glance roving toward the +open window, "where does he happen to be to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Where?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, fingering a slightly agitated whisker, +"where is Young Har, sir? Lord, Mr. Stevens, if you ask me that, I +throws up my 'ands, and I answers you—'eavens knows! Young Har is a +unknown quantity, sir—a will o' the wisp, or as you might say, a ignus +fattus. At this pre-cise moment 'e may be in Jerusalem or Jericho +or—a-sittin' outside on the lawn—which Gawd forbid! But there, don't +let's talk of it. Come on down into the cellars, and we'll bring up +enough port to drownd sorrer an' care all night."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart!" said Mr. Jenkins, laying aside his banjo.</p> + +<p>"Ditto, indeed!" nodded Mr. Stevens, slipping a hand in his host's arm, +and thus linked together they made their way out of the room.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had their hilarious voices died away when a muscular brown hand +parted the hangings of an open window, and Geoffrey Ravenslee climbed +into the room. His rough clothes and shabby hat were powdered with dust, +and he looked very much out of place amid his luxurious surroundings as +he paused to glance swiftly from the bottles that decorated the carved +mantel to those on table and piano. Then, light-treading, he crossed the +room, and as the hilarious three were heard approaching, vanished in his +turn.</p> + +<p>"'Ere we are, Jubilee Port!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, setting down two +cobwebbed bottles with elaborate care, "obleege me with the corkscrew, +somebody."</p> + +<p>"Won't forget as you promised us a song, Brim!" said Mr. Jenkins, +passing the necessary implement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I won't disappoint ye," answered Mr. Brimberly, drawing the cork +with a practised hand; "my father were a regular songster, a fair +carollin' bird 'e were, sir."</p> + +<p>"'Ow about 'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road'?" Mr. Stevens suggested.</p> + +<p>"Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, pausing in the act of filling the +glasses, "that's rather a—a low song, ain't it? What do you think, Mr. +Jenkins?"</p> + +<p>"Low?" answered Mr. Jenkins, "it's as low as—as mud, sir. I might say +it's infernal vulgar—what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I don't care for it myself," Mr. Stevens admitted rather humbly, +"it was merely a suggestion."</p> + +<p>"With your good favour," said Mr. Brimberly, after a tentative sip at +his glass, "I'll sing you a old song as was a rare favourite of my +father's."</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said Mr. Jenkins, taking up his banjo, "oblige us with the +key."</p> + +<p>"The key, sir?" answered Mr. Brimberly, pulling down his waistcoat, +"what key might you mean?"</p> + +<p>"The key of the note dominant, Brim."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly stared and felt for his whisker.</p> + +<p>"Note dominant," he murmured; "I don't think my song has anything of +that sort—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, just whistle a couple o' bars."</p> + +<p>"Bars," said Mr. Brimberly, shaking his head, "bars, sir, is things +wherewith I do not 'old; bars are the 'aunt of the 'umble 'erd, sir—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Brim," explained Mr. Stevens, "Jenk merely means you to 'um the +air."</p> + +<p>"Ah, to be sure, now I appre'end! I'll 'um you the hair with pleasure."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly cleared his throat vigorously and thereafter emitted +certain rumbling noises, whereat Mr. Jenkins cocked a knowing head.</p> + +<p>"C sharp, I think?" he announced.</p> + +<p>"Not much, Jenk!" said Mr. Stevens decidedly, "it was D flat—as flat a +D as ever I heard!"</p> + +<p>"It was C!" Mr. Jenkins said, "I appeal to Brim."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Brimberly ponderously, "I'm reether inclined to think I +made it a D—if it wasn't D it was F nat'ral. But if it's all the same +to you, I'll accompany myself at the piano-forty."</p> + +<p>"What," exclaimed Mr. Stevens, emptying and refilling his glass, seeing +which Mr. Jenkins did the same, "what—do you play, Brim?"</p> + +<p>"By hear, sir—only by hear," said Mr. Brimberly modestly, as, having +placed bottle and glass upon the piano within convenient reach, he +seated himself upon the stool, struck three or four stumbling chords and +then, vamping an accompaniment a trifle monotonous as to bass, burst +forth into song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was a rich merchant that in London did dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had but one daughter, a beautiful gell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which her name it was Dinah, scarce sixteen years old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'd a very large fortune in silver and gold."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Chorus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ri tooral ri tooral ri tooral i-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ri tooral ri tooral ri tooral i-day."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was now that Mr. Ravenslee, his rough clothes replaced by immaculate +attire, entered unostentatiously, and, wholly unobserved by the company, +seated himself and lounged there while Mr. Brimberly sang blithely on:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As Dinah was a-walking in her garden one day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her father came to her and thus he did say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come wed yourself, Dinah, to your nearest of kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or you shan't have the benefit of one single pin!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ri tooral ri too—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Here Mr. Jenkins, chancing to catch sight of that unobtrusive figure, +let fall his banjo with a clatter, whereupon Mr. Brimberly glancing +around, stopped short in the middle of a note, and sat open-mouthed, +staring at his master.</p> + +<p>"Enjoying a musical evening, Brimberly?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly blundered to his feet, choked, gasped, groped for his +whiskers, and finally spoke:</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, I—I'm afraid I—we are—"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you were such an accomplished musician, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"Mu-musician, sir?" Brimberly stammered, his eyes goggling; "'ardly +that, sir, oh, 'ardly that, I—I venture to—to tinkle a bit now an' +then, sir—no offence I 'ope, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Friends musical too, it seems."</p> + +<p>"Y-yes, sir, music do affect 'em, sir—uncommonly, sir."</p> + +<p>"Yes, makes them thirsty, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Ravenslee, sir, I—that is, we did so far venture to—er—I +mean—oh, Lord!" and mopping perspiring brow, Mr. Brimberly groaned and +goggled helplessly from Mr. Jenkins who stood fumbling with his banjo to +Mr. Stevens who gaped fishlike.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Young R., having viewed them each in turn, "if +these—er—very thirsty musicians have had enough of—er—my wine +to—er—drink, perhaps you'll be so obliging as to see them—off the +premises?"</p> + +<p>"I—I beg parding, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Please escort your friends off the premises."</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir—at once, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Unless you think you ought to give them each a handful of my cigars—"</p> + +<p>But Mr. Brimberly had already bundled his dazed guests to the door, out +of the door, and out of the house, with very little ceremony.</p> + +<p>It was a very deferential and officiously eager Brimberly who presently +knocked and, bowing very frequently, begged to know how he might be of +further service.</p> + +<p>"Might I get you a little supper, sir? We 'ave 'am, sir, we 'ave beef, +cold, salmon and cucumber likewise cold, a ditto chicken—"</p> + +<p>"That sounds rather a quaint bird," said Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, very good, sir, chicken an' a nice slice of 'am, sir, say, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Brimberly, I dined late."</p> + +<p>"Why then, sir, a sandwich or so, pray permit me, sir, cut nice an' +thin, sir—"</p> + +<p>"Thank you—no."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear! Why then, sir, whisky? Brandy? A lick-your?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"A cigar, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Hum! Have we any of the Garcias left?"</p> + +<p>"Y-yes, sir. Ho, certingly, sir. Shall I—"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother, I prefer my pipe; only let me know when we get short, +Brimberly, and we'll order more—or perhaps you have a favourite brand?"</p> + +<p>"Brand, sir," murmured Brimberly, "a—er—certingly, sir."</p> + +<p>"Good night, Brimberly."</p> + +<p>"Good night, sir, but first can't I do—hanything?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you do me, of course. You do me so consistently and well that +I really ought to raise your wages. I'll think about it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly stared, coughed, and fumbled for his whisker, whence his +hand wandered to his brow and hovered there.</p> + +<p>"I—I bid you good night, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the way, bring me the letters."</p> + +<p>"Certingly, sir!" and crossing the room, Mr. Brimberly returned, bearing +a salver piled high with letters, which he set at his master's elbow; +this done, he bowed and went from the room, one hand still at his dazed +brow.</p> + +<p>Left alone, Ravenslee took up the letters one by one. Some he threw +aside, some few he opened and glanced at carelessly; among these last +was a telegram, and the words he saw were these:</p> + +<p>"Meet me to-morrow sunset in the wood all shall be explained Hermy."</p> + +<p>For a while he sat staring at this, then, laying it by, drew out a +letter case from which he took another telegram bearing precisely the +same message. Having compared them, he thrust them into his pocket, and +filling his pipe, sat awhile smoking and lost in thought. At last, his +pipe being out, he rose, stretched, and turned toward the door, but in +the act of leaving the room, paused to take out and compare the +telegrams again and so stood with puckered brow.</p> + +<p>"'Hermy!'" he said softly. "'Hermione' is so much prettier. 'All shall +be explained.' A little trite, perhaps! Oh, well—" So saying, he folded +up the telegrams, switched off the lights and went to bed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3>OF TRAGEDY</h3> + + +<p>It was close on the hour of sunset when Ravenslee stopped his car before +a quiet hotel in Englewood and sprang out.</p> + +<p>"Will you be long, sir?" enquired Joe, seating himself at the wheel and +preparing to turn into the garage.</p> + +<p>"Probably an hour, Joe."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir."</p> + +<p>But as the big car turned, Ravenslee spoke over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"By the way, if I shouldn't be back in an hour, come and meet me." Then, +having given Joe full and particular directions as to the little wood, +he turned and went upon his way.</p> + +<p>It had been a stifling day, and even now, though a soft air was abroad +tempering the humid heat, when this light wind languished there was over +all things a brooding stillness, foreboding storm. But Ravenslee strode +on, unheeding dust and heat, hastening on to that which awaited him, +full of strength and life and the zest of life, glad-hearted, and with +pulses that throbbed in expectation. Thus, as the sun sank in fiery +splendour, he reached the little wood. Evening was falling, and already, +among the trees, shadows were deepening to twilight, but in the west was +a flaming glory; and, upon the edge of the wood he turned to glance back +at this radiance, splashes of gold and pink flushing to an ominous red. +For a long moment he stood to stare around about the solitary +countryside, joying in life and the glory of it. Then he turned, with a +smile on his lips, and stepped into the gloom of the wood. On he went, +forcing his way through the under-brush until, reaching the clearing, he +halted suddenly and faced about, fancying he had heard a rustle in the +leaves hard by. Spike, cowering behind a bush with M'Ginnis's fingers +gripping his arm, shivered and sweated and held his breath until +Ravenslee moved on again, and, coming to a fallen tree, seated himself +there and sat chin on fist, expectation in every tense line of him.</p> + +<p>"Now!" whispered M'Ginnis hoarsely, "get him now—before Hermy comes t' +him!" Shuddering, Spike levelled the weapon he held, but at that moment +Ravenslee was filling his pipe, and something in this homely action +checked the lad, paralysed finger on trigger, and shrinking, he cowered +down upon the grass despite the fierce hand that gripped him. "Get him +now, Kid—get him now! Aim f'r his chest—y' can't miss at this +distance—"</p> + +<p>"I—I can't, Bud!" gasped the boy, writhing, "I can't do it—I can't!" +Dropping the revolver, he hid his face in sweating hands and shivered.</p> + +<p>From somewhere near by a woodpecker was tapping busily, but save for +this no sound broke the pervading stillness, for the gentle wind had +died away. But suddenly the quiet was rent and shivered, and Spike, +deafened by the report, glanced up to see Ravenslee rise to his feet, +stagger forward blindly, then, with arms outflung, pitch forward upon +his face and lie there.</p> + +<p>"By God, you—you've shot him, Bud!" he whimpered, "you—you've killed +dear old Geoff—oh, my God!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, quit—quit all that!" whispered M'Ginnis breathlessly, "that's what +we came for, ain't it? What you lookin' at?"</p> + +<p>"It lays so—still! so awful still!" Spike gasped.</p> + +<p>"Well, what ye got t' go starin' at it that ways for? Come on—let's +beat it; it's us for th' quick get-away in case any one heard. Come on, +Kid!"</p> + +<p>"But you've—killed Geoff!"</p> + +<p>"I guess he don't need no more—'n' say, Kid, you're in on this job +too, don't forget! Come on, it's little old N' York for ours!"</p> + +<p>Though M'Ginnis dragged at him, Spike huddled limply on his knees, his +glaring eyes always staring in the one direction; whereupon M'Ginnis +cursed and left him.</p> + +<p>But all at once, finding himself alone, to horror came fear, and +stumbling to his feet Spike began to draw away from that awful thing +that held his gaze; slowly he retreated, always going backwards, and +though he stumbled often against tree and sapling, yet so long as it was +in sight needs must he walk backwards. When at last a kindly bush hid it +from his sight, he turned and ran—ran until, panting and wild-eyed, he +burst from the wood and was out upon the open road. Even then he paused +to stare back into that leafy gloom but saw and heard nothing. Then, +uttering a moan, he turned and ran sobbing along the darkening road.</p> + +<p>But, within that place of shadows, from amid the leaves of a certain +great tree, dropped one who came beside that motionless form, and knelt +there awhile. When at last he rose, a ring lay upon his open palm—a +ring in the shape of two hands clasping each other; then, with this +clenched in a pallid fist, he also turned and left that still and awful +thing with its face hidden in last year's dead and rotting leaves.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<h3>OF REMORSE</h3> + + +<p>For three miserable days Spike had remained indoors, eating little, +sleeping less, venturing abroad only at dusk to hurry back with the +latest paper and, locked within his bedroom, to scan every scare head +and column with eyes dilating in dreadful expectation of beholding the +awful word—MURDER.</p> + +<p>For three interminable days Hermione, going about her many duties slow +of foot and listless, had scarcely heeded him, conscious only of her own +pain, the agony of longing, the yearning ache that filled her, throbbing +in every heart-beat—an ache that would not be satisfied. Thus, lost in +her own new sorrow, she spoke seldom, sighed often, and sang not at all; +often sitting at her sewing machine with hands strangely idle and gaze +abstracted. Spike, watching furtively, had seen her eyes brim over with +great, slow-falling tears; more than once he had heard her bitter +weeping in the dawn. At such times he had yearned to comfort her, but +between them was memory, dividing them like a wall—the memory of a +still form with arms wide-tossed and face hidden among dead leaves. And +at such times Spike writhed in the grip of horror and groaned under the +gnawing fangs of remorse; sometimes he prayed wild, passionate prayers, +and sometimes he wetted his pillow with unavailing tears, while in his +ears, like a small voice, soft and insistent, repeated over and over +again, was the dread word MURDER. By day it haunted him also; it stared +up at him from the white cloth of the breakfast table, forbidding him +to eat; he read it on floor and walls and ceiling; he saw it in bloody +characters that straggled across the very sky; wherever he turned his +haggard gaze there he needs must read it.</p> + +<p>And then—there were the footsteps. All day long they tramped up and +down the stairs outside—everyday sounds that he had never heeded +before, but now they were warnings to hearken to and shudder at, and he +would sit pretending to read but with ears straining for the sound of +feet upon the landing or on the stair. Now they were feet that +crept—the stealthy steps of one that lurked to catch him unaware; or +again, they were the loud tramp of those who came with authority to drag +him to doom, and he would watch the door, staring wide-eyed, waiting for +the thundering knock he expected yet which never came. All day long they +haunted him, and at night, locked within his bedroom, he must needs lift +heavy head from the pillow to hearken with ears straining even yet, +until, haggard and worn, he had shivered and groaned and wept himself to +sleep, only to awake and start up in sweating terror, thinking he heard +a fierce hand knocking, knocking upon the outer door.</p> + +<p>Thus, for three long days Spike had lived in torment, and to-night, as +he leaned throbbing head between clutching hands, his haggard eyes +sought vainly for that fell word which he could read everywhere except +in the newspaper before him; his sufferings had grown almost beyond his +strength, for to his old torments was added harrowing suspense.</p> + +<p>"Why?" "Why?" "Why" was the word that stared at him from ceiling and +walls and blue expanse of heaven; why was it there and not in the +papers? Could it be that it was lying there yet, that awful, still +thing, lying as he remembered it, as he could see it now, its ghastly +features hidden among the leaves that rotted, its long arms outflung and +strong hands griped among the grass with clutching fingers—could it +be?—</p> + +<p>"Arthur—boy—what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Spike started and looked up to find Hermione beside him, and +instinctively he shrank away.</p> + +<p>"Arthur—oh, what is it? Are you sick?"</p> + +<p>"N-no, why?"</p> + +<p>"You were moaning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I—I'm all right, I guess. Got a headache, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Why have you avoided me lately, Arthur? I'm not angry any more, I'm +only—disappointed."</p> + +<p>"Y' mean because I lost me job? They don't want my kind; I—oh, I'm too +mean—too rotten, I guess."</p> + +<p>"I heard you cry out in the night, Arthur. What was it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'—I didn't cry out las' night, I tell ye."</p> + +<p>"I heard you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I—I was only dreamin', I guess."</p> + +<p>"Why have you acted so strangely lately? You don't eat, you don't go +out; you sit around staring and seem to be listening—almost as if you +were afraid—"</p> + +<p>"I ain't—I ain't afraid. Who says I'm afraid? An' I don't want you to +go worryin' y'self sick over me—I ain't a kid no more."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm afraid you're not." And sighing, she turned away. But as she +crossed the room, her step slow and listless, he spoke, his head +down-bent and face hidden between clenched hands, voicing, almost +despite himself, the questions that had tortured him so long.</p> + +<p>"Say, Hermy, where's—Geoff? How is he—I mean you—you ain't—heard +anything—have you?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered softly, without turning, "what should I hear? I only +know he's—gone. How should I hope to hear anything any more?"</p> + +<p>"I—I thought he was—goin' t' marry you."</p> + +<p>"So he was, but I—couldn't let him—marry—a thief's sister," she said +in the same low, even voice.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Spike, writhing, "why did he go an' tell ye about me after +he told me he never would—why did he tell ye?"</p> + +<p>"He didn't tell me!" cried Hermione, with curling lip.</p> + +<p>"Didn't he—oh—didn't he?" said Spike, his voice high and quivering, +"didn't Geoff tell ye? Then—say, Hermy, who—who did?"</p> + +<p>"It was Bud M'Ginnis, and for once it seems he told the truth!"</p> + +<p>"Bud!" cried Spike, stumbling to his feet. "Oh, my God!" At sound of +his voice she turned, and seeing his face, cried out in sudden fear: +"Arthur—oh, Arthur, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Bud told ye?" he gasped. "Wasn't it Geoff—oh, wasn't it Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>Spike was down on his knees. "Oh, God! Oh, Geoff—dear old Geoff, +forgive me!" He was huddled upon the floor, his face pressed to the +worn rug, his clenched fingers buried in his curls, while from his +lips issued gasping sobs harshly dry and awful to hear.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Geoff, forgive me! I thought you told her! I thought you +meant t' steal her from me! Oh, forgive me, Geoff—I wish I was dead +like you."</p> + +<p>"Arthur!"</p> + +<p>She was down beside him on her knees, shaking him with desperate hands.</p> + +<p>"Arthur! Arthur! What—are you saying?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'—nothin'!" he stammered, staring up into her face, suddenly +afraid of her. "Nothin', I—I was only—thinkin'—I—"</p> + +<p>"What did you mean?" she cried, her grasp tightening. "Tell me what you +meant—tell me, tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'," he mumbled, trying to break her hold. "Lemme go, I—I didn't +mean anything—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me what you meant—tell me, tell me!"</p> + +<p>"No—I can't—I—"</p> + +<p>His voice failed suddenly, his whole frame grew tense and rigid, and +lifting a stiff arm he pointed a trembling finger toward the open +doorway.</p> + +<p>"Hush—hush!" he panted, "oh, for God's sake, hush! There—don't you +hear—there's some one outside on th' landing—footsteps—hark! They're +coming to our door! They're stoppin' outside—oh, my God, it's come +at—"</p> + +<p>The word ended in a scream, drowned all at once in a thunderous knocking +on the outer door, and Spike, crouching upon his knees, clutched at her +as she rose.</p> + +<p>"Don't,—don't open—the door!" he gasped, while Hermione gazed at him, +terrified by his terror, as again the thunderous summons was heard. +Then, despite the boy's passionate prayers and desperate, clutching +hands, she broke from him, and hastening into the little passage, opened +the door.</p> + +<p>Upon the threshold stood a little old man, very smartly dressed, who +saluted her with a gallant flourish of his dapper straw hat and bowed +with his two small and glittering patent leather shoes posed at position +number one in waltzing.</p> + +<p>"Ma'am," said he, "miss, respectful greetin's. Your name's Hermione, +ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, wondering.</p> + +<p>"Knowed it was. And a partic'ler fine gal too! Though not 'oldin' wi' +marridge, I don't blame the Guv—'e always 'ad a quick eye for +beauty—like me."</p> + +<p>"But who are you? What do you want—"</p> + +<p>"Miss, I want you—leastways—'e does. Been callin' for you the last +three days 'e has, ever since 'e ketched one as fair doubled 'im up—"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't understand. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"A admirer of the Guv, ma'am. A trusted friend of 'is, miss—come t' +take ye to 'is poor, yearnin' arms, lady—"</p> + +<p>"But who—oh, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ravenslee, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ravenslee!" she echoed, her colour changing.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Y' see—he's dyin', miss!"</p> + +<p>Hermione gasped and leaned against the wall as if suddenly faint and +sick, perceiving which, the Old Un promptly set his arm about her waist +and led her unresisting into the parlour. There, having aided her +tenderly into a chair and nodded to pale-faced Spike, he sighed, shook +his ancient head, and continued:</p> + +<p>"Ho, Lor lumme, lady, it fair wrung my old 'eart to 'ave to tell ye, +but, 'aving to tell ye (Joe couldn't) I told ye almighty quick to get it +over—sharp an' quick's my motter. Fate's crool 'ard when Fate takes the +gloves off, miss, an' I know as Fate's been an' took ye one in the wind +wot's fair doubled you up—but take time, miss, take time—throw back +your pretty 'ead, breathe deep an' reg'lar, an' you'll soon be strong +enough to go another round. If I'd got a towel handy I'd fan ye a +bit—not 'avin' none, no matter. Fate's 'ard on you, so fair an' young, +miss, but Fate's been 'arder on the Guv—ketched the pore young Guv a +fair spiflicator—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please—please," cried Hermione, reaching out appealing hands, "oh, +tell me, is he hurt—sick—dying? Oh, quick, quick—tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Lady, ma'am—my pretty dear," said the Old Un, taking those pleading +hands to pat them tenderly, "that's what I'm tryin' to do. The Guv +ain't dead yet—no, not—yet—"</p> + +<p>"You mean he's dying?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said the old man, blinking at her through sudden tears, +"that's what the doctors say." Here he loosed one hand to rub at each +bright eye with a bony knuckle. "An' 'im so young—so game an' +strong—three days ago."</p> + +<p>"How—did it—happen?" she questioned, her voice low and steady.</p> + +<p>"It was Fate!" said the old man, taking her hand again. "Three days ago +Fate (the perisher) sends him a telegram—two on 'em—tellin' 'im to +meet you in a wood an' signed with—with your name, both on 'em—"</p> + +<p>At this she cried out and would have risen, but his kindly clasp checked +her.</p> + +<p>"I—sent no telegram!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Me an' Joe an' the Spider know that now, miss. But anyway, to this 'ere +wood the Guv do 'aste away, an' in this wood Fate's a-layin' for 'im +wir a gun, an' down goes the pore Guv wi' a perishin' bullet in 'is +gizzard. An' there Joe finds 'im, an' 'ome Joe brings 'im in the car, +an' Joe an' me an' the Spider 'ushes things up. An' now in bed lays the +Guv with nurses an' doctors 'anging over 'im—a-callin' for you—I mean +the Guv, d' ye see? So now for you I've come. I've brought Joe an' the +car for you—Joe's across wi' Mrs. Trapes, an' the car's below—both +waitin'. So you'll come t' th' pore young Guv, miss, won't ye, lady?"</p> + +<p>"Have you—any idea—who—did it?" she questioned, speaking as with an +effort.</p> + +<p>"We got our suspicions, ho, yus!" the Old Un nodded. "Joe's got a +wonnerful gift o' suspicion—oh, a rare 'ead 'as my lad Joe. Joe an' +the Spider's on the track, an' they're goin' to track Fate to doom, +ma'am—to perishin' doom! Y' see," here the old man leaned suddenly +nearer, "y' see, Joe's found a cloo!"</p> + +<p>"A clew! Yes—yes!" she whispered breathlessly, moistening lips suddenly +dry, and conscious that Spike's lax form had stiffened to painful +alertness.</p> + +<p>"Well, ma'am, Joe an' the Spider's been a-seekin' an' a-searchin' of +that there wood, an' they found," here the Old Un leaned nearer yet and +whispered harshly, "they found—a coat button! Lorgorramighty!" he +exclaimed suddenly, pointing a trembling bony finger, "what's took th' +lad—look!"</p> + +<p>Spike had risen and now stood, breathing loudly, one hand clenched upon +his breast, and turning swiftly, took a stumbling pace toward the open +window, tripped, and fell prone upon his face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor lad, poor lad!" cried the Old Un, rising hastily. "Fate's +been an' ketched him one too—a fair knock-out! Leave him to me, miss, +I'll bring 'im round—bitin' 'is years is good, or vinegar on a +sponge—leave 'im to a old fightin' man—"</p> + +<p>"No!" cried Hermione passionately, "no, I say. Leave him to me!" Quelled +by something in her tone and manner, the old man sank back in his chair, +while she, kneeling beside Spike, lifted him in her strong young arms so +that he was hidden from the Old Un's bright, piercing eyes. Holding him +thus, she loosed Spike's rigid fingers and drew away that clutching +hand; then, seeing what that hand had striven to hide, she shrank +suddenly away, letting the boy's inanimate form slip from her clasp; +and, as she knelt there above him, her shapely body was seized with +fierce tremors.</p> + +<p>So she knelt for a long moment until Spike sighed, shivered, and sat up, +but beholding the look in her wide eyes, uttered a hoarse sound that was +like a cry of fear and, starting from her nearness, crouched down, +huddled upon his knees.</p> + +<p>Then Hermione rose and, turning to the old man, smiled with pallid lips.</p> + +<p>"You see—he's all right—now!" she said. "If you'll please go and tell +Mrs. Trapes I'm leaving, I'll get ready." Obediently the Old Un rose.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes is a-gettin' into her bonnet to come along wi' us!" said +he, and putting on his hat with a flourish, took his departure. When he +was gone, Hermione turned and looked down at Spike, who, meeting her +eyes, flinched as from a blow and made no effort to rise from his knees. +So she packed her grip and dressed for the journey, while he watched her +with eyes of mute appeal. Twice he would have spoken, but her look smote +him to silence. At last, as she took up her suit case and turned to go, +he implored her in a hoarse whisper, reaching out his arms to her: +"Hermy!"</p> + +<p>But she shrank from his contact and, hastening from the room and along +the little passage, closed the door and left him to his hopeless misery. +As one in a dream she followed the old man down the stairs, was aware of +his ushering her through the crowd of women and children who thronged +about the big car. As one in a dream she found herself seated beside +Mrs. Trapes, whose motherly solicitude she heeded no more than the +bustle and traffic of the streets through which the swift car whirled +her on and on until, turning, it swung in between massive gates and +pulled up before a great, gloomy house.</p> + +<p>As one in a dream she ascended the broad steps, crossed a stately hall, +was ushered up a noble stairway and along thick-carpeted corridors until +at last she found herself in a darkened chamber where, his dark head +conspicuous upon the white pillow, he lay. A nurse rose from beside the +bed as Hermione entered and softly withdrew. Left alone, she stood for +a long moment utterly still, her hands tightly clasped, her breath in +check, gazing at that dark head upon the pillow, at that outstretched +form lying so silent and so very still.</p> + +<p>"Hermione!"</p> + +<p>A feeble whisper, a sigh faintly breathed, but at the sound she had +crossed the wide chamber on feet swift and noiseless, had sunk upon her +knees beside the low bed to lean above him all murmurous love and +sighing tenderness, while she stole a timid hand to touch the hair that +curled upon his pallid brow; then, for all his helplessness, she flushed +beneath his look.</p> + +<p>"How beautiful—you are!" he said faintly, "and I—weak as—confounded +rat! Hermione—love, they tell me I—must die. But first I want you +for—my very own if only for—a little while!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear," she whispered, soft mouth against his pale cheek, "I +always was yours—yours from the very first; I always shall be."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll—marry me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear."</p> + +<p>"Now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear."</p> + +<p>"I—hoped you would, so—I arranged—minister's waiting now. Will +you—ring?" And he motioned feebly toward an electric bell-push that +stood upon a small table beside the bed.</p> + +<p>And now once again as one in a dream she obeyed, and was presently aware +of soft-treading figures about her in the dim chamber—among them the +Old Un whose shoes for once creaked not at all. As one in a dream she +made the responses, felt the feeble clasp of that hand whose strength +and masterful power had thrilled her, heard the faint echo of that loved +voice that had wooed her so passionately once, yet wooed in vain, while +now—</p> + +<p>She was alone again, alone with him who lay so very still and pale with +eyes closed wearily; from him she glanced to that which gleamed so +bright and new upon her finger and bending her head she pressed the +wedding ring to her lips.</p> + +<p>"Wife!" he whispered; the weary eyes were open, and his look drew her. +So she knelt beside the bed again, stooping above him low and lower +until her head lay beside his upon the pillow. Slowly, slowly his feeble +hand crept up to her glowing cheek, to the soft waves of her hair, and +to the little curl that wantoned above her eyebrow.</p> + +<p>"Hermione—wife—kiss me!"</p> + +<p>Tenderly her arms enfolded him, and with a soft little cry that was half +a sob she kissed him, his brow, his hair, his lips, kissed him even +while she wetted him with her falling tears.</p> + +<p>"Beloved," he murmured, "my glorious—scrubwoman—if I must—leave +you—these dear hands need never—never slave again. Never—any—more, +my Hermione."</p> + +<p>Long after he had fallen to sleep she knelt there, cradling his weakness +in her arms, looking down on him with eyes bright with love.</p> + +<p>After this were days and nights when the soul of him wandered in dark +places filled with chaotic dreams and wild fancies; but there was ever +one beside him whose gentle voice reached him in the darkness, and whose +tender hand hushed his delirium and soothed his woes and troubles.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<h3>HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE CAME OUT OF THE DARK</h3> + + +<p>She was knitting; and opening sleepy eyes he watched drowsily and +wondered what it might be and was minded to enquire, but sighed instead +and fell asleep again.</p> + +<p>She was knitting; knitting something in red wool, and opening his eyes +again, he lay watching awhile and pondered dreamily as to what it could +be she wrought at so busily, for the wool was so very red and so +extremely woolly.</p> + +<p>Her chin was set at an angle somewhat grim, she was sitting very +upright in her chair and, though scrupulously hidden from sight, her +elbows—truly how portentous were the undisguisable points of those +elbows! And she was knitting fiercely in wool that was remarkably red +and woolly.</p> + +<p>"Pray what is it, Mrs. Trapes?" A feeble whisper, but, at the sound, +faint though it was, Mrs. Trapes started, half rose from her chair, sank +down again heavily and letting fall her knitting, stared at the invalid.</p> + +<p>"Land sakes, alive!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee, his voice a little stronger.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear beloved land o' my fathers—it's come!" she exclaimed, +clasping her hands, "the Lord be praised for evermore, it's come!"</p> + +<p>"What has?"</p> + +<p>"The turn! And you've took it! Doctor Dennison says last night as you'd +take it soon one way or t' other. But all night long while they waited +and watched here, you've laid so pale an' still as a corp'. An' now, +while I'm a-settin' here, you go an' take th' turn so sudden as fair +takes my breath away, Lord be praised! I mean—I mean—oh, I guess I'll +go wake the doctor."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't told me what it is," said Ravenslee drowsily.</p> + +<p>"What what is?"</p> + +<p>"That very peculiar—woolly thing."</p> + +<p>"This?" said Mrs. Trapes, picking up the object in question, "this is my +knittin'. Doctor said t' call him th' moment th' turn came—" Her voice +seemed to sink to a slumberous murmur as, having smoothed his pillow, +she crossed the room and very softly closed the door behind her; +wherefore Ravenslee blinked sleepily at the door until its panels seemed +slowly to become confused and merge one into another, changing gradually +to a cloud, soft, billowy, and ever growing until it had engulfed him +altogether, and he sank down and down into unknown deeps of +forgetfulness and blessed quietude.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>She was knitting; knitting a shapeless something in red wool, and +Ravenslee thought he had never known her elbows more threatening of +aspect nor seen wool quite so red and woolly; wherefore he presently +spoke, and his voice was no longer a feeble croak.</p> + +<p>"Pray what is it, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes jumped.</p> + +<p>"Well, for th' love o' heaven!" she exclaimed, and down fell her +knitting.</p> + +<p>"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee a little petulantly.</p> + +<p>"Your very—identical—words!" said Mrs. Trapes in awed tones. "Nacher +sure 'moves in a mysterious way her wonders to perform'!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean as them was the identical words as you addressed to me when you +took th' turn two days ago!"</p> + +<p>"Two days!" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring.</p> + +<p>"Ever since you did take the turn two days ago, you've laid there so +quiet an' peaceful—no more dreams an' ravin'—you've jest laid there +'wrapped in infant slumbers pure an' light', Mr. Geoffrey—Ravenslee, +I mean."</p> + +<p>"Why then, it's about time I got up. If you'll kindly—er—retire and +send Patterson, I'll get dressed."</p> + +<p>"Dressed?" echoed Mrs. Trapes, hollow-voiced and grim. "Get up? Lord, +Mr. Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Why not?"</p> + +<p>"What, you—you as is only jest out o' the valley o' th' shadder! You +as we've all give up for dead over an' over! You get up? Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey—I mean Ravenslee!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Ravenslee, knitting his dark brows thoughtfully, "have I been +sick long?"</p> + +<p>"Four weeks."</p> + +<p>"Weeks!" he exclaimed, staring incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Four weeks an' a bit! For four weary, woeful weeks you've been layin' +here with death hoverin' over you, Mr. Geoffrey. For four long weeks +we've been waitin' for ye t' draw your las' breath, Mr. Ravenslee. For +four 'eart-rendin' weeks your servants has been carryin' on below stairs +an' robbin' you somethin' shameful."</p> + +<p>"My servants? Oh, yes, they generally do. But tell me—"</p> + +<p>"The amount o' food as they consoom constant! The waste! The +extravagance! Th' beer an' wine an' sperrits they swaller! Them is sure +the thirstiest menials ever I heard tell of! An' the butler—such airs, +such a appetite! An' sherry an' bitters t' make it worse! Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey, your servants sure is a ravenin' horde!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be too hard on 'em, Mrs. Trapes," he answered gravely, "I'm +afraid I've neglected them quite a good deal. But it's a woman's hand +they need over them."</p> + +<p>"It's a pleeceman's club they need on 'em—frequent! I'd learn 'em +different, I guess—"</p> + +<p>"So you shall, Mrs. Trapes, if you will. You are precisely the kind of +housekeeper I need."</p> + +<p>"What—me?"</p> + +<p>"You, Mrs. Trapes. A lonely bachelor needs some one to—er take care of +his servants for him, to see they don't overeat themselves too often; +or—er—strain themselves spring-cleaning out of season—or—"</p> + +<p>"But you got a wife t' do all that for you. I guess Hermy'll know how to +manage."</p> + +<p>"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, starting, "wife? Am I really—married?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Didn't she go an' let you wed her when we all thought you was +dyin'?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, did she?" said he very gently. "Why then, it—it wasn't all a +dream?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, Hermy's been Mrs. Ravenslee, your lawful wedded wife, +just exactly four weeks."</p> + +<p>Ravenslee stared up at the ceiling, dreamy-eyed.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" he murmured. "I thought I'd only dreamed it."</p> + +<p>"Hermy's watched over you night an' day a'most—like th' guardian angel +she is—prayin' f' you, workin' f' you, fightin' death away from you. +Oh, I guess it's her fault as you're alive this day! Anyway, her an' +you's man an' wife till death do you part."</p> + +<p>"But death—hasn't, you see."</p> + +<p>"An' death sure ain't goin' to—yet."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm—I'm very much alive still, it seems."</p> + +<p>"You sure are, glory be t' th' Lord of Hosts to who I have also +petitioned frequent on your behoof. An' now I'll call th' doctor."</p> + +<p>"No, no—not Dennison; let me see her first. Can't I speak to Hermione +first, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>"She was up with you all las' night, sweet lamb! It'd be a shame to wake +her—"</p> + +<p>"So it would—don't disturb her."</p> + +<p>"But I guess she'd never forgive me if I didn't wake her. So if you'll +promise t' be good—"</p> + +<p>"I will!"</p> + +<p>"An' not go gettin' all worked up an' excited?"</p> + +<p>"I will not!"</p> + +<p>"Why then, perhaps ten minutes wouldn't hurt."</p> + +<p>"God bless you, Mrs. Trapes!"</p> + +<p>Left alone, he tried to sit up, and finding this strangely difficult, +examined his hands and arms, scowling to find himself so weak. Then he +clapped hand to bony jaw and was shocked to feel thereon a growth of +ragged beard, and then—she was before him. Fresh from her slumbers she +came, wrapped in a scanty kimono whose thin, clinging folds revealed +more of her shapely beauty than he had ever seen as she hurried across +the wide chamber.</p> + +<p>"Hermione," he said, and reached out his hands to her. And his voice +was no longer the feeble echo it had been; the hand that clasped hers, +though still thin and weak, thrilled her anew with its masterful touch. +Because of all this, her words of tender greeting remained unspoken, the +arms which had been eager to cradle his helplessness crossed themselves +on her bosom; she became aware of naked ankles and of bare feet thrust +into bedroom slippers and needs must hide them, and the better to do so, +sank upon the bed, her feet tucked under her. So she sat, just beyond +his reach, and, conscious of scanty draperies, shook her shining hair +about her, veiling herself in its glory.</p> + +<p>"Hermione," he said unsteadily, "I—I never knew quite how beautiful you +were—and we—we are married, it seems!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said softly.</p> + +<p>"And now I'm—I'm afraid I'm going to—live!"</p> + +<p>"Afraid?"</p> + +<p>"It—it almost seems as though I had married you under false pretences, +doesn't it? But the doctors and everybody were so certain I was to die +that I thought so too. And now—I'm going to live, it seems."</p> + +<p>She was silent, and slowly his hand went out to her again, and slowly +hers went to meet it, but though her fingers clasped and twined, +thrilling in mute passion to his touch, she came no nearer, but watched +him from the shadow of her hair with great troubled eyes.</p> + +<p>"Dear," he said, very humbly, "you do—love me still, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"More than ever."</p> + +<p>"Then you're not—sorry to be my wife?"</p> + +<p>"No—ah, no, no!" she whispered, "never that!"</p> + +<p>"Then, dear, won't you—will you kiss me?" Seeing she hesitated, he +sank back on his pillow and laughed a little ruefully. "I forgot these +confounded whiskers—I must look an unholy object. Patterson shall shave +me, and then perhaps—"</p> + +<p>But sudden and warm and soft her arms were about him, and her eyes, +troubled no longer, gazed into his, brimful of yearning tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, my dear," she murmured, quick and passionate, "as if I +should ever care how you looked as long as you were—just you. My dear, +my dear, you have come back to me from the very gates of death because +I—I—"</p> + +<p>"Because you nursed me so tenderly!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no, there were others to do that—no, God gave you back to me +because He is merciful, and because I love you—want you—need you so +much!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Hermione—Kiss me!"</p> + +<p>A knock at the door, and, quick-breathing, she drew from him as the +voice of Mrs. Trapes reached them.</p> + +<p>"Ten minutes is up!" she announced as she entered, "and Hermy, if you +don't want th' doctor t' see you in your nightdress an' that—"</p> + +<p>"Ann!" gasped Hermione, drawing the folds of her kimono about her.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, he's coming."</p> + +<p>Up sprang Hermione, in doing which she lost a slipper.</p> + +<p>"Give it me!" she pleaded, for Ravenslee had caught it up.</p> + +<p>"Dear, you have one—be content," he answered. "And surely I may kiss +my wife's slipper without you having to blush so—so deliciously, +Hermione?"</p> + +<p>"It's so—old and shabby!" said she faintly.</p> + +<p>"That's why I kiss it."</p> + +<p>"An' here comes th' doctor!" said Mrs. Trapes. Whereat Hermione +incontinent fled away, white foot agleam. Then Ravenslee, having kissed +the little slipper quite brazenly under Mrs. Trapes's staring eyes, +tucked it beneath his pillow.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Geoffrey!" said Mrs. Trapes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<h3>CONCERNING A CLEW</h3> + + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee, laying aside the book he had been reading +and letting his glance wander across smooth lawns and clipped yew +hedges, "Mrs. Trapes, what about that stewed shin of beef with carrots +and onions you prepared for—our wedding supper?"</p> + +<p>"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her everlasting knitting, +"which you never stopped to eat."</p> + +<p>"Which omission I will now haste to rectify. Mrs. Trapes, pray go and +get it ready—I'm ravenous!"</p> + +<p>"Good f'r you!" said Mrs. Trapes; "in about half an hour you shall have +a nice cup of beef tea to raven at—"</p> + +<p>"Confounded slops!" growled Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Doctor's orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, clicking her knitting needles.</p> + +<p>"Can't I have something to chew at?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. How'll a cracker soaked in milk soot?"</p> + +<p>"Cracker!" snarled Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Doctor's orders!"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee muttered and took up his book.</p> + +<p>"Helen who, did you say?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, glancing up. "Mr. +Geoffrey—I mean Ravenslee, I'm surprised at you—swearin' ain't good +for a invalid; your temperature'll be rose if you swear."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear Mrs. Trapes, I'm hungry, very hungry—darned hungry!"</p> + +<p>"Which is a sign as you're improvin' rapid. Beef tea'll be here soon."</p> + +<p>"I won't drink the stuff!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you will, when Hermy brings it."</p> + +<p>"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, his voice grown gentle, and laying down his +book again. "Mrs. Trapes, have you noticed any change in her lately?"</p> + +<p>"A bit handsomer, p'r'aps—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I don't mean that; it's something that puzzles me. She seems +to have grown more—more reserved and shy—"</p> + +<p>"Well, she was married to you before she knew it kind of, almost."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that's it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! What you got t' do, Mr. Geoffrey, is—woo her! Woo her all you +know how. The best woman can't be wooed too hard nor too frequent—so +you start in an' woo."</p> + +<p>"But sometimes it has almost seemed that she—avoided me."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't let her."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose she's grieving for Spike?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he ain't exactly a j'y t' her. There he is going straight to the +devil along o' that Bud M'Ginnis!"</p> + +<p>"I must go and fetch him as soon as I can get about again."</p> + +<p>"If he'll come."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he'll come," said Ravenslee grimly. "I've decided to send him to +college—"</p> + +<p>"If he'll go!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he'll go—there's quite a lot of good in him, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Only it's mighty hard to find, Mr. Geoffrey! If that b'y wants t' go +t' th' devil, to th' devil he'll go. What you got t' do is t' make her +forget him—if you can. Oh, drat him, anyway!" and squaring her elbows, +Mrs. Trapes knitted so angrily that her knitting needles clashed like +weapons fiercely opposed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but suppose she is grieving for him, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>"Why then," said Mrs. Trapes, "why then—oh, shucks—I guess I'll go an' +see after that beef tea."</p> + +<p>When she had gone, Ravenslee sat plunged in gloomy thought until roused +by the sound of approaching feet with a creak of shoes, a loud, arrogant +creak there was no mistaking, and the Old Un appeared followed by Joe +and the Spider, the latter looking very smart in his new livery.</p> + +<p>"Guv," said the Old Un, "best respex! 'Ere we be, come to say 'ow glad +we are t' see you come up smilin' an' ready for more after Fate ketchin' +ye a perishin' wallop as we all thought 'ad doubled ye up till the day +o' doom. 'Ere you are, on your pins again, an' 'ere 's us come t' give +ye greetin's doo an' j'y o' your marriage—shut up, Joe!"</p> + +<p>"Why, I wasn't speakin'!" growled Joe.</p> + +<p>"No, but you meant to—you're always meanin' to, you are. Guv," +continued the Old Un, "folks is allus a-givin' an' takin' in marriage in +this 'ere world, such bein' their natur'—they can't 'elp it! But never +in this world nor no other was there ever sich a weddin' as yours. There +was 'er so young an' fair an' full o' life, an' there was you so pale +an' nigh to death—one leg in the grave—an' there was me s' full o' +years an' wisdom an' sorrer for ye both—oh, my pore old bowels was fair +yearnin' over ye-"</p> + +<p>"Lord, Old Un," expostulated Joe, "you keep them bowels o' yours out of +it—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Joe, in your ignorance; bowels is in the Bible, an' bowels +I abide by now and forever, amen! Well, there we all were, Guv, bendin' +o'er your couch o' care very silent an' solemn,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Not a drum was 'eard, not a funereal note'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"an' there was you s' pale an' nigh t' death—"</p> + +<p>"You said all that afore, Old Un!" growled Joe.</p> + +<p>"You leave me alone, Joe," said the Old Un, scowling and flourishing a +trembling fist, "you lemme be, or you'll be pale an' nigh t' death next. +Well, there was you, Guv, an' all s' pale an' still when: ''Oo giveth +this woman?' says the parson-cove very solemn. 'That's me!' says I, +quick an' ready. An' so, me 'avin' 'elped t' marry you, I've brought +Joe an' Spider t' wish you 'ealth an' 'appiness an' a j'y continual. +Now, Joe, it's your round—speak up!"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Joe heavily, "I—we—I mean—Lord, sir, I am that glad—ah, +glad as—as never was—"</p> + +<p>"That'll do for you, Joe!" snapped the Old Un. "Spider's round."</p> + +<p>Hereupon the Spider lurched forward, hunched his wide shoulders, took +off his smart cap, and stared at it very hard.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said he, chewing vigorously, "I mean boss—er—no, that ain't +right either—this is sure a bum start I'm makin'—"</p> + +<p>"Bo' will do, Spider," said Ravenslee, "let it go at that."</p> + +<p>"Why then, bo, I ain't one as is ever goin' t' win any gold-mounted +testimonials at any talk-fest or heart-throbbin' spiel-act, but what I +wanter tell you is this—an' I guess you know I ain't only breathin' out +puffs o' hot air—I want yer t' know as I feel about you like—like Joe +an' the Old Un does—an' then some more. Y' see, bo, though I ain't +never held a straight flush agin four aces an' don't expect to, though +I shan't ever be a world's champion like Joe here—I guess I know to-day +what it feels like, because you ain't goin' t' snuff it, after all—an' +now I guess you're on." Saying which, the Spider dexterously shifted +his wad to the other cheek and chewed faster than ever.</p> + +<p>"I am, Spider, and I want you to know I'm grateful to you, all three. +Also I want to thank you all for keeping this affair out of the papers, +though how you managed it beats me."</p> + +<p>"Guv," cried the Old Un, tremulous and eager, "oh, Guv, we're fair +sleuth-hounds, we are—specially me. There ain't a 'tective nor +secret-service cove nor bloomin' bobby fit to black our shoes—specially +mine! Y' see, Guv, I know who done it; Joe thinks he knows; an' Spider +don't think at all!"</p> + +<p>"Oh?" said Ravenslee, and looking around, caught the Spider watching him +wide-eyed, his jaws grimly tense and immobile; but meeting his glance, +the Spider lowered his eyes, shifted his smartly-gaitered legs, and +chewed viciously.</p> + +<p>"So, Guv," piped the Old Un cheerily, "we're out for the criminal's +gore—specially me. We're goin' to track the perisher to 'is 'orrible +doom—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Where'er he be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To th' gallers tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, Guv, we mean t' bring him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' laugh with j'y<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When nice an' 'igh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blinkin' bobbies swing 'im.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"And you think you know who it was?"</p> + +<p>"I do, Guv, I do!" nodded the Old Un. "I knows as 'twas a enemy as done +it; Joe thinks it was one o' them gang fellers, an' Spider don't say who +he thinks done it."</p> + +<p>Once again Ravenslee caught the Spider's eye watching him furtively, and +once again he noticed that the Spider's jaws were clamped hard, while he +was twisting his natty chauffeur's cap in fingers strangely agitated.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Joe, "me an' the Spider searched that wood, an' we found a +coat—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Joe," snarled the Old Un, "you're tellin' it all wrong. Guv, +Joe an' the Spider went a-seekin' an' a-searchin' that wood, an' they +found a—cloo—"</p> + +<p>"Oh?" said Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"A cloo as is a-goin' t' 'ang somebody yet—a cloo, Guv, as ain't t' be +ekalled for blood-guilt an' mystery. Joe," said the Old Un, sinking his +voice to a hoarse whisper, "the hour is come—perjooce the cloo!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Joe produced a pocketbook and took thence a highly ornate coat +button whereto a shred of cloth was attached.</p> + +<p>"I found this, sir," said he, "close by where you was a-lyin'." So +Ravenslee took the button upon his palm, and, as he eyed it, the Spider +saw his black brows twitch suddenly together, then—he yawned.</p> + +<p>"And you found this in the wood, Joe?" he enquired sleepily.</p> + +<p>"I did, sir. With that to help 'em, the perlice would have the murdering +cove in no time, and more than once I've been going to hand it over to +'em. But then I thought I'd better wait a bit; if you died was time +enough, an' if you didn't I'd keep it for you—so, sir, there it is."</p> + +<p>"You did quite right, Joe. Yes, you did very right indeed!"</p> + +<p>For a long moment Ravenslee sat languidly twisting the button in thin +white fingers, then flicked it far out over the balustrade down among +the dense evergreens in the garden below. The Old Un gasped, Joe gaped, +and the Spider sighed audibly.</p> + +<p>"Lorgorramighty! Oh, Guv, Guv—" quavered the old man, "you've throwed +away our cloo—our blood-cloo—th' p'lice—you've lost our evidence—"</p> + +<p>"Old Un, of course I have! You see, I don't like clews, or blood, or +the police. You have all been clever enough, wise enough to keep this +confounded business quiet, and so will I—"</p> + +<p>"But, oh, Guv, arter somebody tryin' t' kill ye like a dog—ain't there +goin' t' be no vengeance, no gallers-tree, no 'lectric chair nor +nothin'—"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" answered Ravenslee gently. "Somebody tried to kill me, but +somebody didn't kill me; here I am, getting stronger every day, so we'll +let it go at that."</p> + +<p>"Why then—I'm done!" said the Old Un, rising.</p> + +<p>"Guv, you're crool an' stony-'carted! 'Ere 's me, a pore old cove as +has been dreamin' an' dreamin' o' gallers-trees an' 'lectric chairs, and +'ere 's you been an' took 'em off me! Guv, I'm disapp'inted wi' ye. Oh, +ingratitood, thou art the Guv!" So saying, the Old Un clapped on his hat +and creaked indignantly away.</p> + +<p>"Crumbs!" exclaimed Joe, "what a bloodthirsty old cove he is, with his +gallers-trees! This means jam, this does."</p> + +<p>"Jam?" repeated Ravenslee wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Sir, whenever the Old Un's put out, 'e flies to jam same as some chaps +do to drink; makes a fair old beast of hisself, he do. If you'll excuse +us, sir, Spider an' me'll just keep a eye on him to see as he don't go +upsettin' his old innards again."</p> + +<p>Ravenslee nodded, and smiling, watched them hurry after the little old +man; but gradually his amusement waned, and he became lost in frowning +thought. So deeply abstracted was he that he started to find Mrs. Trapes +regarding him with her sharp, bright eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, here's a cup o' beef tea as I've prepared with my own +hand—"</p> + +<p>"But where's—"</p> + +<p>"She's gone t' bed. Here's a cup o' beef tea as is stiff with +nourishment, so get it into your system good an' quick."</p> + +<p>"Gone to bed—"</p> + +<p>"She says it's a headache, o' course—drink it down while it's hot—but +I reckon it's more 'n a headache—yes, sir. A while back I says t' +you—'woo her,' I says, Mr. Geoffrey. I now says—let her alone awhile. +The poor child's all wore out—it's nerves as is the matter with her, I +reckon. So, Mr. Ravenslee, be patient, this ain't no wooin' time; it's +rest she needs an' change of air—"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, Mrs. Trapes, she shall have them!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<h3>THE WOES OF MR. BRIMBERLY</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Brimberly, having dined well as was his custom, lay at his ease +in a luxurious lounge chair in the shade of the piazza; the day was hot, +wherefore on a table at his elbow was a syphon, a bottle, and a long +glass in which ice tinkled alluringly; between his plump fingers was a +large cigar and across his plump knees was an open paper over which he +yawned and puffed and sipped in turn. Nevertheless Mr. Brimberly was +bored and dropping the paper, languidly cherished a languorous whisker, +staring dull-eyed across stately terraces and wide, neat lawns to where, +beyond winding yew walks and noble trees, the distant river flowed.</p> + +<p>Presently as he sat he was aware of a small girl in a white pinafore +approaching along one of these walks—a small being who hopped along by +means of a little crutch and sang to herself in a soft, happy voice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly blinked.</p> + +<p>Heedless of the eyes that watched her, the child turned into the rose +garden, pausing now and then to inhale the scent of some great bloom +that filled the air with its sweetness.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly sat up, for he permitted few to enter the rose garden.</p> + +<p>All at once the child, singing still, reached up and broke off a great +scarlet bloom.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly arose.</p> + +<p>"Little girl!" he called, in voice round and sonorous, "little girl, +come you 'ere and come immediate!"</p> + +<p>The child started, turned, and after a moment's hesitation hobbled +forward, her little face as white as her pinafore. At the foot of the +broad steps leading up to the piazza she paused, looking up at him with +great, pleading eyes.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly beckoned with portentous finger.</p> + +<p>"Little girl, come 'ere!" he repeated. "Come up 'ere and come immediate!"</p> + +<p>The small crutch tapped laboriously up the steps, and she stood before +Mr. Brimberly's imposing figure mute, breathless, and trembling a +little.</p> + +<p>"Little girl," he demanded, threatening of whisker, "'oo are you +and—what?"</p> + +<p>"Please, I'm Hazel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed," nodded Mr. Brimberly, pulling at his waistcoat. "'Azel +'oo, 'Azel what—and say 'sir' next time, if <i>you</i> please."</p> + +<p>"Hazel Bowker, sir," and she dropped him a little curtsey, spoiled +somewhat by agitation and her crutch.</p> + +<p>"Bowker—Bowker?" mused Mr. Brimberly. "I've 'eard the name—I don't +like the name, but I've 'eard it."</p> + +<p>"My daddy works here, sir," said Hazel timidly.</p> + +<p>"Bowker—Bowker!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Ah, to be sure—one of the +hunder gardeners as I put on three or four weeks ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes, please, sir."</p> + +<p>"Little girl, what are you a-doin' in that garden? Why are you wandering +in the vicinity of this mansion?"</p> + +<p>"Please, I'm looking for Hermy."</p> + +<p>"'Ermy?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "'Ermy? Wot kind of creater may that +be? Is it a dog? Is it a cat? Wot is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's only my Princess Nobody, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, a friend of yours—ha! Persons of that class do not pervade these +regions! And wot do I be'old grasped in your 'and?"</p> + +<p>Hazel looked down at the rose she held and trembled anew.</p> + +<p>"Little girl—wot is it?" demanded the inexorable voice.</p> + +<p>"A rose, sir."</p> + +<p>"Was it—your rose?"</p> + +<p>"N-no, sir."</p> + +<p>"Don't you know as it's a wicked hact to take what ain't yours? Don't +you know as it's thieving and robbery, and that thieving and robbery +leads to prison bars and shackle-chains?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, I—I didn't mean—" the little voice was choked with sobs.</p> + +<p>"Well, let this be a warning to you to thieve no more, or next time I +shall 'ave to become angry. Now—go 'ence!"</p> + +<p>Dropping the rose the child turned and hobbled away as fast as her +crutch would allow, and Mr. Brimberly, having watched her out of sight, +emptied his glass and took up his cigar, but, finding it had gone out, +flung it away. Then he sighed and, sinking back among his cushions, +closed his eyes, and was soon snoring blissfully.</p> + +<p>But by and by Mr. Brimberly began to dream, a very evil dream wherein it +seemed that for many desperate deeds and crime abominable he was chained +and shackled in a dock, and the judge, donning the black cap, sentenced +him to be shorn of those adornments, his whiskers. In his dream it +seemed that there and then the executioner advanced to his fell work—a +bony hand grasped his right whisker, the deadly razor flashed, and Mr. +Brimberly awoke gurgling—awoke to catch a glimpse of a hand so hastily +withdrawn that it seemed to vanish into thin air.</p> + +<p>"'Eavens and earth!" he gasped, and clapping hand to cheek was relieved +to find his whisker yet intact, but for a long moment sat clutching that +handful of soft and fleecy hair, staring before him in puzzled wonder, +for the hand had seemed so very real he could almost feel it there yet. +Presently, bethinking him to glance over his shoulder, Mr. Brimberly +gasped and goggled, for leaning over the back of his chair was a little, +old man, very slender, very upright, and very smart as to attire, who +fanned himself with a jaunty straw hat banded in vivid crimson; an old +man whose bright, youthful eyes looked out from a face wizened with age, +while up from his bald crown rose a few wisps of white and straggling +hair.</p> + +<p>"'Oly 'eavens!" murmured Mr. Brimberly in a faint voice.</p> + +<p>The visitor, settling his bony elbows more comfortably, fanned himself +until his sparse locks waved gently to and fro, and, nodding, spoke +these words:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, wake thee, oh, wake thee, my bonny bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, wake and sleep no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy pretty pipe I 'ave n't 'eard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, lumme, how you snore!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly stared; Mr. Brimberly's mouth opened, and eventually Mr. +Brimberly rose and surveyed the intruder slowly, up from glittering +shoes to the dome of his head and down again; and Mr. Brimberly's ample +bosom surged, his eye kindled, and his whiskers—!</p> + +<p>"Cheer-o!" nodded the Old Un.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly blinked and pulled down his waistcoat.</p> + +<p>"Me good man," said he, "you'll find the tradesmen's entrance round the +corner. Go away, if you please, and go immediate—I'm prehoccupied."</p> + +<p>"No, you ain't; you're the butler, you are, I lay my oath—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Spoons an' forks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' drawin' corks'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"that's your job, ain't it, chum?"</p> + +<p>"Chum!" said Mr. Brimberly in tones of horror. "Chum!" he repeated, +grasping a handful of indignant whisker. "Oh, outragious! Oh, very +hobscene! 'Ow dare you, sir? 'Oo are you, sir, eh, sir—answer me, an' +answer—prompt!"</p> + +<p>"Leave them cobwebs alone, an' I'll tell you, matey."</p> + +<p>"Matey!" groaned Mr. Brimberly, turning up his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'm the Guv's familiar friend and personal pal, I am. I'm 'is +adviser, confeedential, matreemonial, circumstantial, an' architect'ral. +I'm 'is trainer, advance agent, manager, an' sparrin' partner—that's +who I am. An' now, mate, 'avin' 'elped to marry 'im, I've jest took a +run down 'ere to see as all things is fit an' proper for 'is 'oneymoon!"</p> + +<p>"My word, this is a mad feller, this is!" murmured Mr. Brimberly, "or +else 'e 's drunk!"</p> + +<p>"Drunk?" exclaimed the Old Un, clapping on his hat very much over one +eye and glaring, "wot—me?"</p> + +<p>"I repeat," said Mr. Brimberly, addressing the universe in general, "I +repeats as 'e is a narsty, drunken little person!"</p> + +<p>"Person?" cried the Old Un, scowling, "why, you perishin'—"</p> + +<p>"Old!" said Mr. Brimberly, "'old, I beg! Enough 'as been said—go 'ence! +'Oo you are I do not know, wot you are I do not care, but in these +regions you do not remain; your langwidge forbids and—"</p> + +<p>"Langwidge?" snorted the Old Un. "Why, I ain't begun yet, you blinkin', +fat-faced, owl-eyed piece o' sooet—"</p> + +<p>"Your speech, sir," continued Mr. Brimberly with calm austerity and +making the most of whiskers and waistcoat, "your speech is redolent of +slums and back halleys. I don't know you. I don't want to know you! You +are a feller! Go away, feller!"</p> + +<p>"Feller?" snarled the Old Un, "why you—"</p> + +<p>"I repeat," said Mr. Brimberly with dignified deliberation, "I repeat as +you are a very low, vulgar little feller!"</p> + +<p>The Old Un clenched his fists.</p> + +<p>"Right-o!" he nodded cheerily. "That's done it! F' that I'm a-goin' t' +punch ye in th' perishin' eye-'ole!" And he advanced upon the points of +his toes, shoulders hunched, and head viciously outthrust.</p> + +<p>"My word!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, retreating rather precipitately, +"this is very discomposing, this is! I shall have to call the perlice."</p> + +<p>"Perlice!" snarled the Old Un, fiercer than ever, "you won't have +nothing t' call with when I've done wi' ye. I'm goin' t' jab ye on th' +beak t' begin with, then I'll 'ook my left t' your kidneys an' swing my +right to your p'int an' crumple ye up with a jolt on your perishin' +solar plexus as 'll stiffen you till th' day o' doom!"</p> + +<p>"'Oly angels!" murmured Mr. Brimberly, glancing hastily about.</p> + +<p>"Then while you lay bathed in 'orrible gore, I'm goin' t' twist them +whiskers into a 'angman's knot!"</p> + +<p>"This is most distressing!" sighed Mr. Brimberly.</p> + +<p>"Then," continued the Old Un, grinding his remaining teeth, "I'm +a-goin' t' tread your face in an' dance on y'r blighted stummick. Arter +that—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, retreating before the oncoming +peril and mopping perspiring brow. But suddenly his wandering eye was +arrested by velvet and gold braid, and lifting up his voice he called:</p> + +<p>"William! James! Come 'ere—and come sharp!"</p> + +<p>Two vast and splendid shapes loomed upon the scene, supermen whose +silken calves quivered with unaccustomed haste; at a sign from Mr. +Brimberly they seized upon the Old Un and, despite ghoulish threats, +solemnly bore him off.</p> + +<p>Down the broad sweep of drive they went, the Old Un pouring forth fluent +curses with every step, until they came to a powerful automobile from +beneath which a pair of neatly gaitered legs protruded.</p> + +<p>"Joe!" cried the Old Un, apostrophising these legs, "Joe, stop bein' a +crawlin' worm—come out an' bash these perishers for me, like a good +lad!" But even while he spoke, the footmen hauled him along, so that +when Joe eventually wriggled from under the car the three were close +against the great gates.</p> + +<p>The Old Un was earnestly explaining to his captors exactly what he +thought of them, of their fathers and mothers, their kith and kin, and +the supermen were heeding him not the least, when a thunderbolt seemed +to smite them asunder, and Joe was glancing mild-eyed from one +splendid, supine form to the other.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Old Un!" said he, "what's the matter now, you old book o' bad +language, you?"</p> + +<p>But Mr. Brimberly, somewhat shaken with his late interview and feeling +the need of a stimulant, had just refilled the long glass when, hearing +a rustle behind him, he turned and beheld a tall woman, elderly and +angular, especially as to chin and elbows, which last obtruded +themselves quite unpleasantly; at least, as he eyed them there was +manifest disapprobation in every hair of his whiskers.</p> + +<p>"Now I wonder," he sighed plaintively, "I wonder what under the blue +expandment of 'oly 'eaven you might be, because if you 'appen to be the +washing—"</p> + +<p>"I—am—not!"</p> + +<p>"Or the cannybal missions—"</p> + +<p>"No—sech—thing!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mr. Brimberly, and his gaze wandered to the elbows. "Why, +then, let me hinform you—"</p> + +<p>"Ann Angelina Trapes is me name."</p> + +<p>"Why then, ma'am, you've took the wrong turning. 'Owbeit an' +notwithstanding, 'ooever you are and nevertheless, you will find the +tradespeople's entra—"</p> + +<p>"You're the gentleman as is so obligin' as to be Mr. Ravenslee's +butler, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"Sich is my perfession," Mr. Brimberly admitted. "I am in sole charge of +these premises and so being will ask you to withdraw 'ence immediate. I +will ask—"</p> + +<p>"An' I'll ask you, very p'inted, what you reckon you're doin' in that +chair?"</p> + +<p>"Doing?"</p> + +<p>"I'll ask you, very p'inted, why you're loafin' around wastin' your +master's time?"</p> + +<p>"Loafing?" cried Mr. Brimberly, very red in the face. "Loaf—"</p> + +<p>"I also ask you, very p'inted, wherefore an' why you loaf, guzzlin' an' +swillin' your master's good liquor?"</p> + +<p>"Guzzling!" gasped Mr. Brimberly. "Oh, 'eavens, this is a outrage, this +is! I'll—"</p> + +<p>"It sure is! An' so are you, winebibber!"</p> + +<p>"Winebib—" Mr. Brimberly choked, his round face grew purple, and he +flourished pudgy fists while Mrs. Trapes folded her cotton-gloved hands +and watched him.</p> + +<p>"Winebibber!" she nodded. "An' the wine as you now bib is your master's, +consequently it was stole, an' bein' stole you're a thief, an' bein' a +thief—"</p> + +<p>"Thief!" gurgled Mr. Brimberly. "Ha, thief's a hepithet, thief is, and a +hepithet 's hactionable! I'll 'ave you indented for perjoorious +expressions—"</p> + +<p>"Winebibber!" she sighed. "Snake an' plunderer!"</p> + +<p>"Never," cried Mr. Brimberly, "never in all my days did I ever 'earken +to such contoomacious contoomacity! 'Oo are you an' wot—"</p> + +<p>"Hand over that bottle and what you've left o' them cigars!"</p> + +<p>"Woman, begone!" he cried hoarsely. "Woman, if you don't go 'ence this +very moment, I'll have you persecuted with the hutmost vigour o' the +law for a incorrigible—female!"</p> + +<p>"Female!" repeated Mrs. Trapes; and clasping herself in her long, bony +arms she shuddered and smiled, though her eyes glared more stonily, and +her elbows suggested rapier points, daggers, and other deadly weapons of +offence.</p> + +<p>"Female it were, I think?" she enquired with another grim and smiling +shudder. "Now, sir, to you I sez, debased creecher, I sez, vulgar an' +dishonest loafer, I sez, sly an' subtle serpent, I sez, return to the +back scullery wherefrom you sprang lest I seize you by the hair of your +cheeks an' bounce your silly head against the wall—frequent, I sez!" +and very slowly, Mrs. Trapes moved toward him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brimberly hesitated, but before those deadly elbows he blenched, his +whiskers wilted all at once, and he retreated backwards; across the +spacious drawing room, along the hall and down the stairs he went, his +pace ever accelerating, until, in full flight, he reached the sanctuary +of his pantry, where, having locked himself securely in, he sank panting +into a chair to mop beaded brow.</p> + +<p>"My word!" said Mr. Brimberly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES UPON HIMSELF A NEW ROLE</h3> + + +<p>Soapy was alone, which in itself was no new thing, for Soapy was a +solitary soul at all times; but just now he sat close against the +rotting fence which skirted that desolation behind O'Rourke's saloon. +Moreover, it was night, and solitude profound was his. He sat on a +battered and disused pail that chanced to be handy, a smouldering +cigarette dangling from his thin-lipped mouth, his long hands pendulous +between his knees, his pallid eyelids sleepily a-droop; but his eyes, +quick and watchful, scanned the deeper gloom of fence and dismal +outbuilding, and he sat there very patient and very still. At last he +stirred slightly, the cigarette quivered and was motionless again, for, +amid the shadows, he had seen a dim shape that flitted swiftly toward +him; on it came, creeping swift and silent beside the fence, nearer and +nearer until it resolved itself into a slender form. Then Soapy spoke.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Kid!"</p> + +<p>Ensued a moment of tense silence, then Spike answered, his voice +unnaturally thin and high-pitched.</p> + +<p>"That—that you, Soapy?"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid!"</p> + +<p>"What you—doin' around—here?"</p> + +<p>"Who, me? Y' see, I'm kind o' yearnin' for that gun you got there—"</p> + +<p>"Gun? I—I ain't got—no gun—"</p> + +<p>"Well, Kid, I know Heine's all kinds of a liar, but he tells me he's +loaned you one of his, an' so—" Soapy's long arm shot out in the gloom +and seizing Spike's right arm he drew it near. "Why, Kid," said he, "it +kind o' looks like Heine told the truth for once by accident, don't +it?"</p> + +<p>"You leggo my wrist!"</p> + +<p>"Right-o, Kid, right-o! Don't get peeved—"</p> + +<p>"Well, leggo then!"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Only this artillery ain't goin' t' be no good t' you t'night—ye +see, Bud—ain't here! 'S rough on ye, Kid, 's rough, but he ain't!"</p> + +<p>"W—what—d' ye mean?" stammered the boy.</p> + +<p>"I mean as you comin' here t' plug holes in Bud's carcase it's kind o' +rough on you as there ain't goin' t' be no carcase here to plug. Y' see, +Bud's took his carcase up-town with him t'night—"</p> + +<p>"You're a liar, Soapy, a liar! Bud's inside, I know he is. Leggo my +arm, you can't con me!"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid, I ain't tryin'. Only I'm tellin' you Bud's left me an' +Lefty t' run things here t'night. Bud's up-town at his old man's place. +I know because—I sent him, see?"</p> + +<p>"You sent him—you? Ah, come off! You couldn't!"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid; I got him away by a fake telegram."</p> + +<p>The boy ventured a long, quivering sigh, his whole frame relaxed, and in +that instant Soapy wrenched the weapon from his loosened hold and rose. +Choking with passion, Spike sprang at him, but Soapy fended him off with +a long arm.</p> + +<p>"Gimme that gun!"</p> + +<p>"Behave, Kid, behave, else I'll have t' dot ye one! Be good an' chase +off home; this ain't no place for you t'night—nor no other time."</p> + +<p>"Gimme that gun!"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>Spike ceased the useless struggle and leaned against the fence, panting, +while Soapy reseated himself upon the battered pail.</p> + +<p>"What you got t' come buttin' in for?" demanded the boy, "this ain't +your show, an' I guess you ain't so mighty fond o' Bud either—"</p> + +<p>"'S right, too," nodded Soapy, "no, I ain't exactly fond of him, Kid; +leastways I don't run t' help him if he falls nor kiss th' place t' make +it well—no, Kid! But I kind o' feel that Bud's too good t' snuff it +this way, or snuff it—yet!"</p> + +<p>"Good?" said the lad bitterly, "good—hell! He's ruined me, Soapy, he's +done me in! He's come between me an'—an' Hermy. He tried t' make me +think dirt of her, an' now—now I—I'm all alone; I ain't got nobody +left—oh, my God!" and huddling to the fence, Spike broke out into a +fierce and anguished sobbing, while Soapy, spinning the revolver +dexterously on his finger, watched him under drooping lids.</p> + +<p>"She was mighty good t' ye, Hermy was!" said he thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Don't—ah, don't!" gasped Spike.</p> + +<p>"An' when he spoke dirt of her, you—believed him, Kid!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't."</p> + +<p>"You did, else you'd have been with her now. She was always good t' +you, Hermy was, but you—well, you preferred Bud!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't, Soapy; God knows I didn't—only—I thought Bud would make me +a champion—"</p> + +<p>"By gettin' ye soused, Kid!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know—I know now he's only been stringin' me all along—I know +now it's too late—that's why I'm goin' t' kill him."</p> + +<p>"Kill him!" mused Soapy. "Kid, there's good killings an' bad killin's, +an' I reckon this 'ud be a good killin', maybe. But this ain't your +job."</p> + +<p>"Why—why ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you got a sister f'r one thing, an' besides, you ain't a killer."</p> + +<p>"You gimme that gun an' see!" cried the lad, reaching out a hand +tremulous and eager.</p> + +<p>"When the time came, Kid, 'stead o' shootin', you'd drop your gun like +that time in th' wood."</p> + +<p>"Th' wood!" Spike's voice dropped to a strangled whisper and he shrank +back against the fence. "You—my God, you—saw—!"</p> + +<p>"'S right, Kid, I was there! An' I'm kind o' glad y' couldn't do it, +glad for your sister's sake. But what I'm thinkin' is that maybe she +thinks it was you—eh, Kid?"</p> + +<p>Spike writhed and groaned.</p> + +<p>"Eh, Kid?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, if I was you, I'd skin off right now an' put her wise; it +may mean a whole lot t' her. Y' know where she is—go an' tell her, +Kid."</p> + +<p>"I can't! I can't—she don't want me no more, she's done wi' me, I +guess. I'm—oh, I'm too low-down an' rotten!"</p> + +<p>"Sure!" nodded Soapy. "But she's good, an' she's a woman; an' good +women are only made t' forgive, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"But there's Geoff! I—I couldn't face Geoff."</p> + +<p>"That's because you think a heap too much about a low-down rotten guy +called Spike. I guess it's about time you began t' think about your +sister f' a change. Well, s' long, Kid, I guess I'll be movin'; this +pail comes a bit sharp after an hour of it."</p> + +<p>So saying, Soapy rose, nodded, and strolled away, still twirling the +revolver upon that long and dexterous finger. For a moment Spike stood +looking after him, then, chin on breast, turned and went his solitary +way across the desolate waste. But now it was Soapy who, pausing, turned +to watch him safe out of sight. Scarcely had the sound of Spike's +departure died away than a door opened and closed hard by, and heavy +steps approached, halted suddenly, and a hoarse voice demanded:</p> + +<p>"Who's there?"</p> + +<p>"Why, this is me, Bud."</p> + +<p>"What th' hell are ye hangin' around out here for?" questioned M'Ginnis +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Countin' th' stars, Bud, an' doin' th' Providence act—midst of life +we are in death' gag—"</p> + +<p>"Aw, cut out that slush an' hike along t' Rayner's wi' me; I got a job +for you an' Heine—"</p> + +<p>Side by side they crossed the gloomy, open lot until they were come +beneath a lamp at a certain bleak street corner. Here Soapy paused and +held out his hand, open to the light.</p> + +<p>"This don't happen t' be your ring, Bud?" he enquired lazily.</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis glanced at the ring upon that narrow palm, a ring wrought into +the semblance of two hands that clasped each other, looked closer, drew +in his breath suddenly, then straightened his shoulders and threw back +his head.</p> + +<p>"No!" he answered, frowning into Soapy's imperturbable face, "what th' +hell made you think it was?"</p> + +<p>"Why, ye see, Bud, it happens t' have your name scratched inside it, +that's all. But if it ain't yours, it ain't!" And speaking, Soapy tossed +the ring back over his shoulder far out into the open lot.</p> + +<p>For a long moment M'Ginnis stood motionless, staring back at that +desolate plot of ground; when at last he glanced toward his companion, +Soapy was lighting a fresh cigarette.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<h3>THE OLD UN ADVISES AND RAVENSLEE ACTS</h3> + + +<p>In the rose garden was an arbour smothered in riotous bloom, and in the +arbour was a divan, wide and low and voluptuously soft, meet for the +repose of an invalid on a languorous afternoon, or indeed any other +time. But just now the invalid reposed not at all but sat, elbow on knee +and square chin on fist, very lonely and therefore very grim.</p> + +<p>All about him roses bloomed, filling the air with their sweetness, but +he had no eyes for their beauty; upon the table within reach of his hand +were books and magazines, but he was in no mood for reading; clasped +between strong white teeth he held his favourite pipe unlighted and +cold, for tobacco had for him no savour. So he sat and scowled at the +universe in general, and in particular at a robin that had boldly +ventured near and was regarding him with a very round, bright eye.</p> + +<p>"She's avoiding me!" said Ravenslee bitterly, teeth clenched upon his +pipestem, "there's no doubt about it, damn it; she's avoiding me! And +she's not happy here either!"</p> + +<p>The robin turned his head to regard the speaker with his other eye, then +fluttered his wings and flew away as the lazy quiet of the afternoon was +broken by the squeak of shoe leather, and glancing up, Ravenslee beheld +the Old Un.</p> + +<p>"What cheer, Guv," said he, "greetin's doo and how's the invalid?"</p> + +<p>"Invalid!" repeated Ravenslee, scowling again, "I'm no invalid!"</p> + +<p>"Spoke like a true-bred gamecock, s' help me!"</p> + +<p>"I'm as right as rain physically, Old Un, but—"</p> + +<p>"Talkin' o' physic, Guv," said the old man, seating himself and nodding +brightly, "talkin' o' physic, the physic as set you on your pins again +was love, Guv, love!"</p> + +<p>"But it so happens—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, I ain't done, Guv! 'Ere 's me, a old cove as 'as lived +'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears longer 'n you, so nacherally I'm a +powerful lot fuller o' th' wisdom o' life than you, specially in matters +o' th' 'eart, Guv. Now me, 'avin' 'elped you into th' matrimonial ring, +as you might say, 'ave took your 'appiness under my wing, an', Guv, I +don't like the way you're shapin'—"</p> + +<p>"But you see—"</p> + +<p>"'Old 'ard, Guv, let a pore old cove get a word in for a change. Now +there's you an' 'er, your fair young spouse, both up to each other's +weight, sound in wind an' limb an' meant for j'y—what I want is +t' see you come to a clinch! This ain't no time for sparrin' an' +out-fightin'—yet 'ere you are a-feintin' at each other from opposite +corners—"</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"'Arf a mo', Guv, 'arf a mo'—gimme a chance for a occasional word! An' +don't frown, Guv, don't frown at a pore old cove; y' see, there's jest +three blokes in this 'ard world as my old 'eart warms to, an' one on 'em +'s Joe, an' t' other un 's you, an' t' other un 's 'er—which ain't a +bloke. Lord, Guv, what a soft armful o' beauty! 'Ow warm an' cuddlesome! +Oh, Guv, what a waist! What lips! What—"</p> + +<p>"Old Un, for heaven's sake, shut up! D' you think I'm blind? D' you +think—"</p> + +<p>"Guv, I dunno wot t' think! 'Ere 's you with your 'ead in your 'ands, +an' there's 'er sighin' an' sighin'—"</p> + +<p>"Sighing? Where? When? Why—"</p> + +<p>"Sighin' an' sighin', Guv, so soft an' pretty—I 'eard 'er! Also she +wep'—I seen 'er."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"An' 'er tears, Guv, them pearly tears went t' my 'eart—an' nobody t' +put a arm round that waist, nor kiss them sweet lips, nor soothe them +tears away—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Oh, alone she sat sighin' by a green willer tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With 'er 'and on 'er bosom, 'er 'ead on 'er knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weepin' willer" willer, willer my garlan' shall be.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"So, Guv, I ax you, man to man, why, oh, why are ye neglectin' your fair +young spouse? An', Guv, I only ax because your 'appiness an' 'ers is +mine—s' 'elp me!"</p> + +<p>"How if it's the other way about, Old Un? Suppose she avoids me?"</p> + +<p>"Why lumme, Guv! 'T is a sure sign she needs persoot. Remember this:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Im as would lovely woman woo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'E lovely woman must persoo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if 'e don't, 't is plain as plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That feller 'e will woo in vain.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"An', Guv, I've only took th' liberty o' sayin' this because my pore old +bowels yearns to ye—both on ye. Persoot's the word, Guv, per-soot!"</p> + +<p>The Old Un nodded, rose, and creaked away, and Ravenslee, looking after +him, scowled no longer, but rising, sauntered across the trim garden to +where there was a lily pool and, leaning over the marble rim, stared +down into the placid water.</p> + +<p>Now as the Old Un went his way, there met him a little girl, very neat +and tidy, who sang to herself in a small happy voice and tapped along on +a crutch; but beholding the Old Un, his dazzling shoes, his rakish hat, +she stood silent all at once, glancing up wistfully into that fierce, +battered old face.</p> + +<p>"Lumme—crutches!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No, please—only one, sir!" she answered, dropping him a little, +old-fashioned curtsey.</p> + +<p>"Crikey!" said he, staring, "so young, so tender, an'—a game leg! A +little angel wi' a broke wing—lumme!"</p> + +<p>So Age and Youth stared at each other and she, being a child, was quick +to heed that the eyes so bright beneath their hoary brows were kindly +eyes, and the smile upon the grim old mouth was very reassuring, +wherefore she smiled also.</p> + +<p>"Only one crutch, sir," she repeated. "An' the doctor says as I won't +want it much longer, sir." Here, dropping another curtsey, she held up +for his acceptance a bunch of wild flowers.</p> + +<p>"What—f' me, little maid?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, please, sir."</p> + +<p>"Why bless—bless your lovin' little 'eart!" quavered the old man, and +stooped to touch her rosy cheek with a hand gnarled and scarred with +much hard punching, yet a very gentle hand indeed. "God bless that +little game leg, but pretty flowers 'ud be wasted on a old bloke like +me. You take 'em to th' Guv, see—over there—that tall chap leanin' +over th' pool. But first gimme a—a kiss instead, will ye, little lass?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, sir."</p> + +<p>And when the Old Un had kissed and been kissed right heartily, he +pointed to Ravenslee's distant, lounging figure, winked, nodded, and +squeaked away.</p> + +<p>Thus it was that Ravenslee, absorbed in thought, was presently roused by +the quick light tapping of the little crutch and glanced up.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she cried softly; the flowers fell and lay neglected as, clasping +her hands, she stared up at him in radiant-eyed wonder.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Highness!" said he and bowed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's the Prince—my dear Prince! Oh, Goody!" and she hastened +toward him, then stopped all at once, puzzled and abashed because of his +elegant attire. Perceiving which he reached out and drew her down by him +on the marble seat beside the pool.</p> + +<p>"Why this sudden change of demeanour, Princess?" he enquired. "What's +the matter?"</p> + +<p>"You're—you're so different, sir—so different an' grand in all them +cute clo'es, sir."</p> + +<p>"Am I, dear? But I'm just the same inside, you know. And, for heaven's +sake, Princess, do not call me 'sir.'"</p> + +<p>"But the big gentleman that belongs here an' has all these lovely +flowers an' everything—he says as I must always say 'sir.'"</p> + +<p>"Big gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the big, soft gentleman with the cute little curls on his cheeks."</p> + +<p>"Oh—him!" said Ravenslee, laughing suddenly. "Indeed a very just +description, Princess. But you don't have to worry about him any more; +he's gone."</p> + +<p>"Gone? For good?"</p> + +<p>"For very good indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Doesn't all this beautiful, beautiful place belong t' him any more?"</p> + +<p>"Never any more."</p> + +<p>"Have you come here 'stead of him? Come t' stay?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"An' can I pick a rose t' kiss sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"As many as you like."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" sighed the child rapturously, nestling within his arm, "isn't that +just—fine! I guess this sure is the Beautiful City of Perhaps, after +all!"</p> + +<p>"I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I'm sure it is—now th' gentleman's gone I just know it is!"</p> + +<p>"What makes you so sure?"</p> + +<p>"Everything! 'Cause you see, Prince, my daddy don't have t' be away all +day any more. An' mumsey don't have t' sew late, nights, any more. An' +when we came into the cute little house where we live—there was the +doll that says 'mamma' jest waitin' f' me. An' there was a big box o' +candies, an' a doll carriage with real rubber on th' wheels—jest like +we used to talk about. So you see this must be Perhaps at last, an' I'm +so—so happy—only—" Hazel sighed.</p> + +<p>"Only what?"</p> + +<p>"I do wish Hermy could find her way here too; she used t' be so tired +sometimes."</p> + +<p>"You mean that you would like to find Princess Nobody, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I can't! I used to look an' look for her every day 'til th' +gentleman said she wasn't here, an' told me never t' come near th' big +house any more."</p> + +<p>"But he's gone, and you never had me to help you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, will you—will you help me right now?" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Surest thing you know!" he nodded, "your hand, Princess."</p> + +<p>So hand in hand he led her, suiting his long legs to hers, along shady +walks, up terrace steps, across smooth lawns, and so to the great house. +Hazel paused to question him further concerning "the gentleman", but +Ravenslee laughed and, seating her upon his shoulder, bore her into the +house.</p> + +<p>In her housekeeper's room, surrounded by many dusty bill files and +stacks of account books, they presently found Mrs. Trapes, whose +hawk's-eye viewed bills and tradesmen's books while she frowned and +muttered such comments as "Rogues!" "Thieves!" "Scand'lous!" "Wicked!" +Until glancing up, her sharp features softened, and she smiled up into +the child's happy face.</p> + +<p>"So Hazel's found ye, has she, Mr. Geoffrey. An' talkin' o' her, you've +sure made the Bowkers a happy fam'ly. But, my land, Mr. Ravenslee, the +scand'lous prices as th' tradespeople has been allowed t' charge you +these last six months! Here's th' butcher—listen t' this—"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid, Mrs. Trapes! Rather let that butcher listen to you, +miserable wretch!"</p> + +<p>"An' there's the milkman—that milkman's cows ought t' blush at th' +sound o' your name! Here's his accounts for the last six months, an' I've +found—"</p> + +<p>"Have you, Mrs. Trapes? We're trying to find Hermione—where is she?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's in her room—laying down, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Not," enquired Ravenslee, "not—er—in bed, is she?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Geoffrey, I don't know; I'm busy. Go an' see for yourself—she's +your wife, ain't she?"</p> + +<p>"Why, since you ask, I—er—hardly know," he answered a little ruefully, +"anyway, found she shall be."</p> + +<p>With the child perched upon his shoulder he strode up-stairs and along +wide corridors whose deep carpets gave forth no sound, and so reached a +certain door. Here he hesitated a moment, then knocked with imperious +hand.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" called that voice whose soft inflection had always thrilled +him, but never as it did now as, turning the handle, he entered his +wife's chamber.</p> + +<p>Hermione was standing before a long mirror, and she neither turned nor +looked from the radiant vision it reflected; her eyes, her attention, +all the feminine soul of her being just then fixed and centered upon the +tea gown she was trying on; such a garment as she had gloated over in +the store windows, yearned for, but never thought to possess.</p> + +<p>"Ann," she sighed, "oh, Ann, isn't it exquisite! Isn't it a perfect +dream! Of course it needs a wee bit of alteration here and there, but +I can do that. Isn't it good of him to have bought it without saying a +word! And there are heaps of dresses and robes and—and everything! A +complete trousseau, Ann, dear—think of it! I wonder how he knew my +size—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I just guessed it, my dear," answered Ravenslee in the voice of a +much experienced husband.</p> + +<p>Hermione gasped, and turning, stared at him wide-eyed, seeing only him, +conscious only of him. Lifting Hazel to the floor, he seated himself +upon her bed and, crossing his legs, eyed her flushed loveliness with a +matter-of-fact air. "Really," he continued, "I don't see that it needs +any alteration; perhaps the sleeves might be a trifle shorter—show a +little more arm. But those flounces and things are perfect! I hope all +the other things fit as well?"</p> + +<p>Hermione flushed deeper still and caught her breath.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hermy," said a soft, pleading little voice, "won't you see me, +please?"</p> + +<p>Hermione started, her long lashes drooped suddenly, and then—then, +forgetful of costly lace, of dainty ruffles and ribbons, she was on her +knees and had the child close in her arms. And beholding the clasp of +those round, white arms, the lovely, down-bent head, and all the tender, +craving, inborn motherhood of her, Ravenslee held his breath, and into +his eyes came a light of reverent adoration.</p> + +<p>Presently he rose and left them together, but as he went, the light was +in his eyes still.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<h3>CONCERNING A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES</h3> + + +<p>"And so," said Hermione, as she waved good-by to Hazel, who stood in the +cottage doorway with Mrs. Bowker—a Mrs. Bowker no longer faded, "you +didn't forget even the doll that says 'Mamma'?"</p> + +<p>"It was such a little thing!" he answered.</p> + +<p>"What a—man you are!" she said softly.</p> + +<p>"Just that, Hermione," he answered, "and—frightfully human!" She was +silent. "Do you know what I mean?" he demanded, glancing at her averted +face.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she answered, without looking around. So they walked for awhile +in silence. Suddenly he seized her hand and drew it through his arm.</p> + +<p>"Hermione," he said gently, "I want my wife."</p> + +<p>She still kept her head averted, but he could feel how she was +trembling.</p> + +<p>"And you think—" she began softly.</p> + +<p>"That I have been patient long enough. I have waited and hoped +because—"</p> + +<p>"Because you are so generous, so kind—such a man!" she said softly and +with head still averted.</p> + +<p>"And yet since I have been well again, you have kept me at arm's length. +Dear, you—love me still, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Love you?" she repeated, "love you?" For a moment she turned and looked +up at him then drew her arm from his and walked on with head averted +once more. So they entered the rose garden and coming to the lily pool +leaned there side by side.</p> + +<p>"Hermione," said he, staring down into the water, "if you really love +me, why do you hate to kiss me? Why do you hardly suffer me to touch +you? And you've never even called me by my name, that I remember!"</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey!" she breathed; "and I—love you to touch me! And I don't hate +to kiss you, Geoffrey dear."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you keep me at arm's length?"</p> + +<p>"Do I?" she questioned softly, gazing down at the lily pads.</p> + +<p>"You know you do. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well—because."</p> + +<p>"Because what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, just—because."</p> + +<p>"Hermione—tell me."</p> + +<p>"Well, everything is so strange—so unreal! This great house, the +servants, all the beautiful clothes you bought me! To have so very much +of everything after having to do with so very little—it's all so +wonderful and—dreadful!"</p> + +<p>"Dreadful?"</p> + +<p>"You are so—dreadfully rich!"</p> + +<p>"Is that the reason you keep me at such a distance? Is that why you +avoid me?"</p> + +<p>"Avoid you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. You've done it very sweetly and delicately, but you have +avoided me lately. Why?"</p> + +<p>Hermione didn't answer.</p> + +<p>"And you haven't touched any of the monthly allowance I make you," he +went on, frowning a little, "not one cent. Why, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>Hermione was silent.</p> + +<p>"Tell me!"</p> + +<p>Still she was silent, only she bent lower above the pool and drew +further from him, whereat his pale cheek flushed, and his frown grew +blacker.</p> + +<p>And presently, as he scowled down into the water, she stole a look at +him, and when she spoke, though the words were light, the quiver in her +voice belied them.</p> + +<p>"Invalid, dear, if you want to be angry with me, wait—till you're a +little stronger."</p> + +<p>Ravenslee stooped and picked up a handful of small pebbles that chanced +to lie loose.</p> + +<p>"Wife, dear," said he, "I'm as well and strong as ever I was. But I've +asked you several questions which I mean you to answer, so I am going to +give you until I have pitched all these pebbles into the water, and +then—" Hermione glanced up swiftly.</p> + +<p>"Then?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>"Why then, if you haven't answered, I shall—take matters into my own +hands. One!" and a pebble splashed into the pool.</p> + +<p>"What do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Two! Why haven't you condescended to take your allowance?"</p> + +<p>"Dear, I—I didn't need it, and even if I had, I—oh, I couldn't take +it—yet!"</p> + +<p>"Three! Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because you have given me so much already, and I—have given +you—nothing."</p> + +<p>"Four! Why—haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—well—because!"</p> + +<p>"Five! What does 'because' mean, this time?"</p> + +<p>"It means—just—because!"</p> + +<p>"Six! Seven! Eight! Why have you avoided me lately?"</p> + +<p>Hermione was silent, watching him with troubled eyes while he slowly +pitched the pebbles into the pool, counting as they fell.</p> + +<p>"Nine! Ten! Eleven! Twelve! Why do you keep me at arm's length?"</p> + +<p>"I don't—I—I—you won't let me—" she said a little breathlessly, +while one by one he let the pebbles fall into the pool, counting +inexorably as they fell.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen! Fourteen, fifteen—and that's the last!" As he spoke he +turned toward her, and she, reading something of his purpose in his +eyes, turned to flee, felt his long arms about her, felt herself swung +up and up and so lay crushed and submissive in his fierce embrace as he +turned and began to bear her across the garden. Then, being helpless, +she began to plead with him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, don't, don't—dear! Geoffrey! Put me down! Where are you taking me? +If any one sees us—"</p> + +<p>"Let them!" he muttered grimly; "you're my wife!"</p> + +<p>So he bore her across the garden into the arbour and laying her upon the +divan, sank beside it on his knees, panting a little.</p> + +<p>"A little weak—still!" said he, "but not so bad—you're no scraggy +sylph, thank heaven! Hermione—look at me!" But she turned and hid her +face against him, for his clasp was close about her still. So he stooped +and kissed her hair, her glowing cheek, her soft white neck, and, in +that instant—wonder of wonders—her arms were around him, strong, +passionate arms that clung and drew him close—then strove wildly to +hold him away.</p> + +<p>"Loose me!" she cried, "let me go! Geoffrey—husband, be generous and +let me go!" But he lifted her head, back and back across his arm until +beneath her long lashes her eyes looked into his.</p> + +<p>"Hermione, when will you—be my wife?"</p> + +<p>Against him he could feel the sweet hurry of her breathing, and stooping +he spoke again, lip to lip:</p> + +<p>"Hermione, when will you be my wife?"</p> + +<p>But, even while he kissed her, between those quivering, parted lips came +a murmur of passionate prayer and pleading.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my love, wait—wait! Let me tell you—ah, loose me and let me tell +you."</p> + +<p>Slowly his hold relaxed, and, twisting in his arms, she slipped upon her +knees beside him, and, crouching close, hid her face against him.</p> + +<p>"Beloved," she whispered quickly, breathlessly, "oh, dear man that I +love so—there is something between us, a shadow of shame and horror +that is with me day and night and always must be. While you lay sick it +was there, torturing me with every moan and sigh you uttered. It is +with me wherever I go—it is between us now—yes, now—even while I +strain you in my arms like this. I have watched you grow strong and well +again, I've seen the love in your eyes, and I've yearned to be to +you—all you would have me, but because of this shadow I—dare not. Ah, +God, how can I be wife to you when—let this answer for me." And she +placed in Ravenslee's hand a coat button whereto a piece of cloth +adhered. "Dear love, I saw you throw it away," she explained, "and I +searched and searched until I found it."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I knew you would soon ask me—this question, and I have kept it +for my answer. Ah, God! how can I be wife to you when my brother would +have killed you—murdered you!"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee hurled the button far away, then lifting Hermione's bowed +head, spoke very tenderly.</p> + +<p>"How does all this affect our love, Hermione, except to show me you are +even sweeter and nobler than I had thought. And as for the shadow, it +is—only a shadow after all."</p> + +<p>"But it is my shame!" she answered. "You might have had for wife the +sister of a thief, but not—oh, God! not the sister of a would-be +murderer. If—if I came to you now, I should come in shame—Ah, +Geoffrey, don't—shame me!"</p> + +<p>"God forbid!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>Close, close she clasped him, hiding her face against him, kissing and +kissing the rough cloth of his coat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoffrey," she murmured, "how we do love each other!"</p> + +<p>"So much, Hermione, that I will never—claim you until you are ready to +come to me of your own will. But, dear, I am only a man—how long must I +wait?"</p> + +<p>"Give me time," she pleaded, "with time the horror may grow less. Let me +go away for awhile—a little while. Let me find Arthur—"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, frowning, "you shan't do that; there will be no +need—to-morrow I go to fetch him."</p> + +<p>"To bring him—here?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course. You see, I intend him to go to college."</p> + +<p>Hermione rose and coming to the entrance of the arbour leaned there.</p> + +<p>"Why, Hermione—dear love—you're crying! What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she answered, bowing her face upon her arm, "only—I +think—if you ask me again—I can't—keep you—waiting—very long!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + +<h3>OF A PACKET OF LETTERS</h3> + + +<p>M'Ginnis jerked aside the roll-top desk and falling on his knees before +a small but massive safe built into the wall behind, set the combination +and swung open the heavy door, talking to his companion as he did so and +quite unconscious of the pale face that watched him through the dingy +window.</p> + +<p>"That dam' Soapy's gettin' ugly," he was saying, "an' it don't do t' +get ugly with me, Heine, boy! Soapy thinks he's smart Alec all right, +but I guess I'm some smarter. Why, I got evidence enough in here t' +'lectrocute a dozen Soapys."</p> + +<p>"So?" said Heine, chewing on his cigar and peering into the safe. "Say, +what's all them tied up in sassy blue ribbon, Bud?"</p> + +<p>"These?" said M'Ginnis, and he took out a bundle of letters, turning +them over in his big hands.</p> + +<p>"Skirt—hey, Bud?"</p> + +<p>"Sure thing!" he nodded, and as he stared down at this packet, how +should he know how tense and rigid had become the lounging form in the +darkness beyond the window, or guess of the wide glare of watchful eyes +or of the sudden quiver of a smouldering cigarette?</p> + +<p>"Yes, a girl's letters, Heine! An' a hell of a lot of 'em. I dunno why I +keep 'em, but—oh, hell!" So saying he tossed the letters back again and +turned to his companion. "Hand over that dope!" he commanded, and Heine +passed over a bundle of papers which M'Ginnis carefully slipped into a +certain compartment. As he did so, Heine spun around upon his heel.</p> + +<p>"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you shook me that time, Soapy! Where've you +blown in from—"</p> + +<p>"An' what th' hell are you nosin' around here for, anyway?" snarled +M'Ginnis, shutting the heavy safe with a fierce slam; "since you've +come in you can get out again—right now!"</p> + +<p>Soapy seated himself upon a corner of the desk and placidly breathed out +two spirals of cigarette smoke.</p> + +<p>"Heard about Hermy bein' married, Bud?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Married? You're a liar! Hermy married? It's not so!"</p> + +<p>"'S right!" nodded Soapy. "She's married th' millionaire guy as got +shot—you know—got shot in that wood—you'll remember, Bud!"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis sank into a chair and fell to biting his nails, staring blindly +before him.</p> + +<p>"Is—this—straight goods?" he enquired thickly, without altering his +gaze.</p> + +<p>"Sure! Y' see, she nursed him through his sickness, Bud—kind of did the +piller-smoothin' an' brow-strokin' act. Oh, I guess she comforted him +quite some."</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis stared before him, worrying his nails with sharp white teeth.</p> + +<p>"Ravenslee's a well man again, I hear, an' they're honeymoonin' at his +place on the Hudson—devotion ain't the word, Bud! 'S funny," said +Soapy, "but th' bullet as downed this guy drove Hermy into his arms. +'S funny, ain't it, Bud?"</p> + +<p>With a hoarse, inarticulate cry that was scarcely human, M'Ginnis sprang +from his chair, his quivering fists up-flung. For a moment he stood +thus, striving vainly for utterance, then wrenched loose his +neckerchief, while Soapy methodically lighted a new cigarette from the +butt of its predecessor.</p> + +<p>"Easy, Bud, easy!" he remonstrated gently, when M'Ginnis's torrent of +frenzied threats and curses had died down somewhat. "If you go on that +way, you'll go off—in a fit or something an' I shouldn't like t' see +ye die—that way!"</p> + +<p>"Up the river, is he?" panted M'Ginnis.</p> + +<p>"'S right, Bud, up the river in his big house—with her. I—"</p> + +<p>"Is he, by—"</p> + +<p>"A dandy place f' honeymoonin', Bud!"</p> + +<p>"Loan me your gun, Soapy. I'll get him, by God! if I have t' shoot him +in her arms—loan me y'r gun!"</p> + +<p>"I guess not, Bud, no, I guess not. I'd feel kind o' lonesome without +th' feel of it. Ask Heine; he'll loan you his; it's gettin' t' be quite +a habit with him, ain't it, Heine?"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis sat awhile glaring down at his clutching right hand, then he +rose, opened his desk, and took thence a heavy revolver, and slipped it +inside his coat.</p> + +<p>"You're comin' with me, Heine," said he, "I'll want you."</p> + +<p>"Sure thing, Bud," nodded Heine, chewing his cigar. "But what about +lettin' Soapy tag along too."</p> + +<p>"Soapy," said M'Ginnis, striding to the door, "Soapy can go t' hell +right now."</p> + +<p>"Why then, Bud," drawled Soapy, "I'll sure meet you—later. S'long."</p> + +<p>Left alone, Soapy's languor gave place to swift action. In two strides, +it seemed, he was in the saloon, had beckoned the quick-eyed bartender +aside and put the question: "Where's the Kid, Jake?"</p> + +<p>The bartender lifted an eyebrow and jerked a thumb upward.</p> + +<p>"Shut-eye," he nodded, and turned back to his multifarious duties.</p> + +<p>Up a narrow stair sped Soapy and, opening one of the numerous doors, +crossed to a truckle bed wherefrom a tousled head upreared itself.</p> + +<p>"Who th'—"</p> + +<p>"Say, Kid, are ye drunk or only asleep?"</p> + +<p>"What yer want, Soapy? You lemme be—what yer want?" began Spike +drowsily.</p> + +<p>"Nothin' much, Kid, only Bud an' Heine's gone t' shoot up y'r sister's +husband."</p> + +<p>"Husband!" cried Spike, drowsy no longer. "Husband—say, d' ye mean +Geoff?"</p> + +<p>"That's who, Kid. You was crackin' on t' me about wantin' t' make good; +well, here's y'r chance. Bud aims t' get there 'bout midnight—up th' +river, you know—so you got two hours. You'll have t' go some t' get in +first, but I guess you can do it."</p> + +<p>"I will if it kills me!" cried Spike, springing toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Kid, you'll need some mazuma, maybe. Here's a ten-spot. It'll +be more useful t' you than me after t'night, I reckon. So get your +hooks on to it, an' now—beat it!"</p> + +<p>Without more words Spike snatched the money, crammed it into his pocket +and, running down the stairs, was gone.</p> + +<p>Then, after having lighted another cigarette, Soapy descended to +M'Ginnis's dingy office, where having dragged away the desk, he brought +a chair and sat with his ear against the safe, turning the combination +lock with long, delicate fingers. To and fro he turned it, very +patiently hearkening to the soft clicks the mechanism gave forth while +the cigarette smouldered between his pallid lips. Soapy, among other +accomplishments, was a yeggman renowned in the profession, and very soon +the heavy door swung softly back, and Soapy became lost in study. Money +there was and valuables of many kinds, and these he didn't trouble with, +but to the papers he gave a scrupulous attention; sometimes as he read +his white eyelids fluttered somewhat, and sometimes the dangling +cigarette quivered. Presently he arose and bore these many papers to the +sheet iron upon which stood the rusty stove; here he piled them and set +them alight and stood watching until they were reduced to a heap of +charred ash. Then, returning to the safe, he took out a bundle of +letters tied up in a faded blue ribbon, and seating himself at +M'Ginnis's desk, he slipped off the ribbon and very methodically began +to read these letters one after the other.</p> + +<p>But as he read the humble entreaties, the passionate pleading of those +written words, blotted and smeared with the bitter tears of a woman's +poignant shame and anguish, Soapy's pendent cigarette fell to the floor +and lay there smouldering and forgotten, and his lips were drawn back +from sharp, white teeth—pallid lips contorted in a grin the more awful +because of the great drops that welled from the fierce, half-closed +eyes. Every letter he read and every word, then very methodically set +them back within the faded blue ribbon and sat staring down at them with +eyes wider open than usual—eyes that saw back into the past. And as he +sat thus, staring at what had been, he repeated a sentence to himself +over and over again at regular intervals, speaking with a soft +inflection none had ever heard from him before:</p> + +<p>"Poor little Maggie—poor little kid!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW RAVENSLEE BROKE HIS WORD AND WHY</h3> + + +<p>"Past eleven o'clock, dear," said Hermione.</p> + +<p>"Still so early?" sighed Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>They were sitting alone in the fire glow, so near that by moving his +hand he could touch her where she sat curled up in the great armchair; +but he did not reach out his hand because they were alone and in the +fire glow, and Hermione had never seemed quite so alluring.</p> + +<p>"How cosy a fire is—and how unnecessary!" she sighed contentedly.</p> + +<p>"I'm English enough to love a fire, especially when it is unnecessary," +he answered.</p> + +<p>"English, dear?"</p> + +<p>"My mother was English; that's why I was educated in England."</p> + +<p>"Your mother! How she must have loved you!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose she did; but, you see, she died when I was a baby."</p> + +<p>"Poor lonely mite!" Here her hand came out impulsively to caress his +coat sleeve and to be prisoned there by two other hands, to be lifted +and pressed to burning lips, whereat she grew all rosy in the fire glow.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said he, the words coming a little unevenly, "it would be +too much to ask my wife to—come a little—nearer?"</p> + +<p>"Nearer? Why, Geoffrey, dear, our chairs are touching now."</p> + +<p>"Our chairs? Why, yes—so they are! I suppose," sighed he, "I suppose it +would be breaking my word to my wife if I happened to—kiss my wife?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Geoffrey—of course it would!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I feared so!" he nodded and kissed her hand instead, and there +fell a silence.</p> + +<p>"How heavenly it is!" she whispered softly, leaning a little nearer to +him.</p> + +<p>"Heavenly!" he answered, leaning a little nearer to her and watching the +droop of her lashes.</p> + +<p>"So—so quiet and—peaceful!" she added, drawing away again, conscious +of his look.</p> + +<p>"Horribly!" he sighed.</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>"Quiet and peace," he explained, "may hold such an infinitude of +possibilities impossible of realisation to a husband who is bound by +promises, that it is apt to be a little—trying."</p> + +<p>Hermione didn't speak but drew his hand to be caressed by the soft oval +of a cheek and touched by the velvet of shy lips.</p> + +<p>"And yet," he went on, staring resolutely at the fire, "I wouldn't +change—this, for anything else the world could offer me!"</p> + +<p>"Bear with me—a little longer, dear!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"As long as you will, Hermione—providing—"</p> + +<p>"Well, my Geoffrey, dear?"</p> + +<p>"That it is only—a little longer."</p> + +<p>"You don't think I'm very—silly, do you, dear?" she enquired, staring +into the fire.</p> + +<p>"No, not very!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said softly, glancing at him reproachfully. "You don't think +me—cruel?"</p> + +<p>"Not very," he answered, kissing her hand again.</p> + +<p>"Dear Geoffrey, you don't think I'm very selfish, do you?" she +questioned wistfully.</p> + +<p>"No—never that!" he answered, keeping his gaze averted.</p> + +<p>"Because if—"</p> + +<p>"If?" said he.</p> + +<p>"If it is hard for you—" the soft voice faltered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Hermione?"</p> + +<p>"If you really think I'm—cruel and—silly, you—needn't wait—any +longer—if you wish—"</p> + +<p>His arms were about her, drawing her near, clasping her ever closer, +and she held him away no more, but—beholding her wistful eyes, the +plaintive droop of her vivid mouth, and all the voiceless pleading of +her, he loosed her and turned away.</p> + +<p>"I love you so much—Hermione, so much, that your will shall be my +will."</p> + +<p>She rose, and leaning against the carved mantel stared down into the +fire; when at last she spoke, there was a note in her voice he had never +heard before,</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey, dear, this world is a very bad world for a lonely girl, and +sometimes a very hateful world, and I have been lonely nearly all my +life—and I didn't think there were such men as you; I didn't think any +man could love so unselfishly. All my life I shall—treasure the +recollection of this hour—yes, always! always!"</p> + +<p>Then she turned and, ere he knew, was on her knees before him, had +twined soft arms about his neck, and was looking up at him through +shining tears.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm—crying a little! I don't do it often, dear—tears don't +easily come with me. But now I'm crying because—oh, because I'm so +proud—so proud to have won such a wonderful love. Good night—good +night! Oh, break your word for once—kiss me, my husband!"</p> + +<p>So while she knelt to him thus, he kissed her until she sighed and +stirred in his embrace. Then she rose and hand in hand they crossed the +room and he opened the door; for a blissful moment they stood there +silent in the shadows, but when he would have kissed her again she +laughed at him through her tears and fled from him up the wide stairway.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + +<h3>HOW SPIKE GOT EVEN</h3> + + +<p>A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Ravenslee sat on long +after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk on broad chest, his +eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in profound but joyful +meditation; once he turned to look where she had stood beside the +mantel, and once he reached out to touch the thrice-blessed chair that +had held her.</p> + +<p>The curtains stirred and rustled at the open window behind him, but he +sat looking into the flickering fire, seeing there pictures of the +future, and the future was full of a happiness beyond words, for in +every picture Hermione moved.</p> + +<p>All at once he started and glanced swiftly around, his lounging attitude +changing to one of watchful alertness, for he had heard a sound that +drew rapidly nearer—the hiss and pant of breath drawn in quick gasps. +Silently he arose and turned to see the curtains swing apart and a +shapeless something stagger forward and fall heavily. Then he reached +out to the switch beside the hearth, and the room was flooded with +brilliant light; the figure kneeling just inside the swaying curtains +uttered a strangled cry and threw up a hand before his face, a hand dark +with spattering blood.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff—oh, Geoff!" panted Spike, "I ain't—come thievin' this +time—honest t' God, I ain't!"</p> + +<p>"Why, you're hurt—what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"They see me down th' road as I came an' shot me, but this ain't +nothin'. Out th' lights, Geoff—out 'em—quick!"</p> + +<p>But Ravenslee had crossed the room, had seized the lad's arm, and was +examining the ugly graze that bled so freely.</p> + +<p>"That ain't nothin'—douse th' lights, Geoff—out 'em quick. Bud's +coming here close behind—Bud an' Heine—they mean t' plug you—oh, put +out th' lights—"</p> + +<p>Instinctively Ravenslee turned, but even as he did so Spike uttered a +hoarse cry.</p> + +<p>"No, ye don't, Bud—not this time, by God!" and sprang upon the form +that towered between the curtains; came the sound of fierce scuffling, a +deafening report, and running forward, Ravenslee caught Spike as he +staggered back; heard a rush and trample of feet along the terrace, the +sound of blows and fierce curses behind the swaying curtains, heard the +Spider's fierce shout and Joe's deep roar, two more shots in rapid +succession, and the swift patter of feet in flight and pursuit.</p> + +<p>"How is it, Spike? Are you hurt, old chap?"</p> + +<p>But Spike just then was beyond words, so Ravenslee bore the swooning boy +to a settee, and laying him there, began to search hastily for the +wound.</p> + +<p>But now the door was flung wide and Hermione was beside him.</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey—oh, my love! Have they hurt you?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear—thanks to Spike, here!"</p> + +<p>"Arthur! Oh, thank God—did he—?"</p> + +<p>"Took the bullet meant for me, Hermione. I owe your brother my life!"</p> + +<p>She was down on her knees and very soon her skilful fingers had laid +bare the ugly wound in the lad's white arm. But now came Mrs. Trapes, +looking taller and bonier than ever in a long, very woolly garment, and +while she aided Hermione to bandage the wound, Ravenslee brought water +and brandy, and very soon Spike sighed and opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Hermy!" he said faintly. "Don't worry, I'm all O. K. Bud shot +me an' I'm glad, because now I can ask you t' forgive me. Y' see, he'd +have got old Geoff sure if it hadn't been for me, so you—you will +forgive me, won't you?"</p> + +<p>For answer Hermione bent and kissed his pallid cheek.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and 'phone for the doctor," said Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, "I done ten minutes ago, Mr. Geoffrey. +Doctor'll be right along."</p> + +<p>Ravenslee turned to Spike.</p> + +<p>"How are you now, old fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Only a bit sick, like. But say, Geoff—I know I played it low down on +you, but—will you—shake an' try t' forget?"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee took and held the boy's outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>"I think we're going to be better friends than ever, Spike!"</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Spike, smiling wearily, "but say, Geoff—dear old Geoff—if +I got t' die I don't mind—because I guess this makes us quits at +last—don't it, Geoff?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + +<h3>RETRIBUTION</h3> + + +<p>Half-stunned by a blow from Joe's mighty fist, M'Ginnis saw Heine +felled by Spider, who, having promptly and scientifically kicked him +unconscious, snatched the revolver from his lax fingers and turned to +pursue. As he came M'Ginnis fired rapidly but, dazed by the blow, his +aim was wild, so he turned and ran, with the Spider in hot pursuit. The +moon was down, and it was very dark, and soon M'Ginnis found himself in +the denser gloom of trees. On he ran, twisting and doubling, on and on, +until spent and breathless, he paused to hearken. Far away, voices +shouted to each other, voices that gradually grew more distant; so, +finally having caught his breath, M'Ginnis went on again. But the wood +was full of noises—strange rustling and sudden, soft night sounds—and +at every sound the fugitive paused to listen, finger on trigger. And +ever as he went the wild blood throbbed and pulsed within his brain, +sounding now like the pad-pad of pursuing feet that would not be shaken +off, and again like a voice that mumbled and muttered querulous words in +the air about him, and at such times he glanced around upon the dark, +but the words would not be stilled:</p> + +<p>"She's married—married—married! You drove her into his arms—you +did—you did—you did! And he's alive still and with her, +alive—alive—alive!"</p> + +<p>And sometimes as he stumbled along through that place of gloom, he +cursed bitterly beneath his breath, and sometimes he ground sweating +jaws since needs must he hearken to that taunting devil-voice:</p> + +<p>"Alive and with his wife beside him—alive! And yours the +fault—yours—yours! Your shot at Spike so near the house lost you the +game—lost—lost! Your shot at Spike was a call for help—saved the life +of the man you came to kill! Your shot at Spike lost you the +game—lost—lost!"</p> + +<p>So, followed by the pad-pad of running feet, haunted by the querulous +demon-voice, M'Ginnis stumbled out upon the road—a lonely road at most +times but quite desolate at this hour. The fugitive hastened along, +dogged by sounds that none but he might hear, yet to him these sounds +were dreadfully real, so real that once, goaded to a paroxysm of blind +fury, he whirled about and fired wildly—a shot that seemed to split +asunder the deep night silence, filling it with a thousand echoes. Once +more he turned and ran, ran until his breath laboured painfully and the +sweat ran from him, but ever the sounds were close about him.</p> + +<p>At last he beheld lights that moved, and reaching a way-side halt, +clambered aboard a late trolley and crouched as far from the light as +possible. But even so, his disordered dress, his pallor, and the wild +glare of his eyes drew the idle glances of the few passengers.</p> + +<p>"Looks like you'd been through th' mill, bo!" said one, a great, rough +fellow; but meeting M'Ginnis's answering glare, he quailed and shrank +away.</p> + +<p>Dawn was at hand when at last he reached O'Rourke's saloon and, letting +himself in, strode into the bar. The place was deserted at this hour, +but from a room hard by came the sound of voices, hoarse laughter, and +the rattle of chips that told a poker game was still in progress.</p> + +<p>Scowling, M'Ginnis stood awhile to listen. Then, lifting the flap of the +bar, he passed through the narrow door beyond, along the passage and so +to that dingy office, from the open door of which a light streamed.</p> + +<p>Scowling still, M'Ginnis strode in, then stood suddenly still, lifted +his right hand toward his breast, then paused as Soapy, turning about in +the swing chair, took a heavy, ivory-handled revolver from where it had +lain on the desk beside a packet of letters tied up in a faded blue +ribbon.</p> + +<p>"Lock th' door, Bud, lock th' door!" said he softly. "So!" he nodded, +as M'Ginnis obeyed. "'N' say, Bud, take that hand away from y'r gun +an'—keep it away—see?" And the lamplight glittered on the long barrel +that rested on Soapy's knee.</p> + +<p>"So—this is th' game—hey?" demanded M'Ginnis hoarsely, his bloodshot +eyes fixed on Soapy unwinkingly.</p> + +<p>"'S right, Bud. Y' see, I been takin' a peek int' that little tin safe +o' yours—say, it looks like you'd had a bit of a rough house, Bud!"</p> + +<p>Soapy's cigarette quivered and was still again, while M'Ginnis watched +him, breathing thickly but speaking no word, and Soapy went on again:</p> + +<p>"I been takin' a peek into that little tin safe o' yours, an' I found +some papers you'd been kind o' treasurin' up about me, so I burnt 'em, +Bud—not as they mattered very much, there ain't nobody t' worry when +I snuff it—but I found as you'd got other papers about other guys as +would matter some t' them, I guess—so I burnt 'em too, Bud."</p> + +<p>"Burnt 'em!" cried M'Ginnis in a strangled voice, "burnt 'em—you—"</p> + +<p>"It ain't no use t' get riled, Bud; I burnt 'em—there's th' ashes!"</p> + +<p>M'Ginnis glanced at the heap of ash by the stove and burst into a frenzy +of curses and fierce invective, while Soapy, lounging back in the chair, +watched him unmoved until he had done, then he spoke again:</p> + +<p>"Also I found—letters, Bud, a packet tied up in blue ribbon—an', Bud, +they matter a whole lot. Here they are—look at 'em!"</p> + +<p>For a moment Soapy's baleful eye turned aside to the desk as he reached +for the letters, and in that moment M'Ginnis's pistol spoke, and Soapy, +lurching sideways, sagged to his knees, his back against the desk. Again +and again M'Ginnis's weapon clicked, but no report followed, and Soapy +slowly dragged himself to his feet. His cigarette fell and lay +smouldering, and for a moment he stared at it; then he laughed softly +and glanced at M'Ginnis.</p> + +<p>"You fool, Bud, you dog-gone fool! Forgot t' load up y'r gun, eh? But I +guess you got me all right, anyway—you're shootin' better t'night than +you did in the wood that time—eh, Bud? Now I want t' tell you—" He was +choked suddenly with a ghastly coughing, and when he spoke again, his +voice was fainter, and he held a smartly-bordered handkerchief to his +mouth.</p> + +<p>"They say God made this world, Bud—if He did, I guess He was asleep +when you was made, Bud—anyway, remembering little Maggie, you ain't got +no right to breathe any longer—so that's for me—an' that's for her!"</p> + +<p>Lounging still, he fired twice from the hip and M'Ginnis, twisting upon +his heels, fell and lay with his face at his slayer's feet. Then, spying +the packet of letters that lay upon the grimy floor, Soapy stooped +painfully and fired rapidly four times; when the smoke cleared, of those +tear-blotted pages with their secret of a woman's anguish, there +remained nothing but a charred piece of ribbon and a few smouldering +fragments of paper. And now Soapy was seized with another fit of +coughing, above which he heard hoarse shouts and hands that thundered +at the door. Lazily he stood upon his feet, turned to glance from that +scorched ribbon to the still form upon the floor and, lifting a lazy +foot, ground his heel into that still face, then, crossing unsteadily to +the door, unlocked it. Beyond was a crowd, very silent now, who drew +back to give him way, but Soapy paused in the doorway and leaned there a +moment.</p> + +<p>"What's doin'?" cried a voice.</p> + +<p>"Say, run f'r a doctor, somebody—quick—Soapy's hurt bad, I reckon—"</p> + +<p>"Hurt?" said Soapy, in soft, lazy tones. "'S right! But—say—fellers, +there's a son of a dog in there—waitin' f'r a spade—t' bury him!" Then +Soapy laughed, choked, and groping before him blindly, staggered +forward, and pitching sideways, fell with his head beneath a table and +died there.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + +<h3>OF THE OLD UN AND FATE</h3> + + +<p>Spike leaned back among his cushions and, glancing away across +close-cropped lawns and shady walks, sighed luxuriously.</p> + +<p>"Say, Ann," he remarked. "Gee whiz, Trapesy, there sure ain't no flies +on this place of old Geoff's!"</p> + +<p>"Flies," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her household accounts, "you +go into the kitchen an' look around."</p> + +<p>"I mean it's aces up."</p> + +<p>"Up where?" queried Mrs. Trapes.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a regular Jim-dandy cracker-jack—some swell clump, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Arthur, that low, tough talk don't go with me," said Mrs. Trapes, and +resumed her intricate calculations again.</p> + +<p>"Say, when'll Geoff an' Hermy be back?"</p> + +<p>"Well, considerin' she's gone to N' York t' buy more clo'es as she don't +need, an' considerin' Mr. Ravenslee's gone with her, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"An' what you do know don't cut no ice. Anyway, I'm gettin' lonesome."</p> + +<p>"What, ain't I here?" demanded Mrs. Trapes sharply.</p> + +<p>"Sure. I can't lose you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Now I'll tell you what it is, my good b'y—"</p> + +<p>"Cheese it, Trapes, you make me tired, that's what."</p> + +<p>"If you sass me, I'll box your young ears—an' that's what!"</p> + +<p>"I don't think!" added Spike. "Nobody ain't goin' t' box me. I'm a sure +enough invalid, and don't you forget it."</p> + +<p>"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "a bit of a hole in his arm, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish you got it, 'stead o' me—it smarts like sixty!"</p> + +<p>"Shows it's healin'. Doctor said as it'll be well in a week."</p> + +<p>"Doctor!" sniffed Spike, "he don't know what I suffer. I may be dyin' +for all he knows."</p> + +<p>"You are!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, with a gloomy nod.</p> + +<p>"Eh—what?" exclaimed Spike, sitting up.</p> + +<p>"So am I—we all are—by the minute. Every night we're a day's march +nearer home! So now jest set right there an' go on dyin', my b'y!"</p> + +<p>"Say, now, cut it out," said Spike, wriggling. "That ain't no kind o' +way t' cheer an invalid."</p> + +<p>"It's th' truth."</p> + +<p>"Well, it don't cheer me more, so let's have a lie for a change."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Trapes snorted and fell to adding and subtracting busily.</p> + +<p>"Say, Ann," said he after awhile, "if you got any more o' that punkin +pie I could do some right now. I'm hungry."</p> + +<p>"It ain't eatin' time yet."</p> + +<p>"But—Gee! ain't I a invalid?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Consequently you must be fed slow an' cautious."</p> + +<p>"Oh, fudge! What's th' good of a guy bein' a invalid if a guy can't feed +when he wants to?"</p> + +<p>"What's a hundred an' ninety-one from twenty-three?" enquired Mrs. +Trapes.</p> + +<p>"Skidoo!" murmured Spike sulkily. But after Mrs. Trapes had subtracted +and added busily he spoke again.</p> + +<p>"You ain't such a bad old gink—sometimes," he conceded.</p> + +<p>"Gink?" said Mrs. Trapes, glaring.</p> + +<p>"I mean you can be a real daisy when you want to."</p> + +<p>"Can I?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Sometimes you can be so kind an' nice I like you a whole lot!"</p> + +<p>"Is that so?"</p> + +<p>"You bet it is—honest Injun."</p> + +<p>"Arthur, if it's that pie you want—"</p> + +<p>"It ain't!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"How d' ye know I want anything?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I just guess, maybe."</p> + +<p>"Well, say—if you could cop me one o' Geoff's cigarettes—one o' them +with gold letterin' onto 'em—"</p> + +<p>"You mean—thieve you one!"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, a cigarette ain't thievin'. Say, now, dear old Trapesy, I'm +jest dyin' for a gasper!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you go on dyin', an' I'll set right here an' watch how you do +it."</p> + +<p>"If I was t' die you'd be sorry for this, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, I'd plant some flowers on you, my lad, an' keep your lonely +grave nice—"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" sniffed Spike, "a lot o' good that 'ud do me when I was busy +pushin' up th' daisies. It's what I want now that matters."</p> + +<p>"An' what you want now, Arthur, is a rod of iron—good 'n' heavy. +Discipline's your cryin' need, an' you're sure goin' t' get it."</p> + +<p>"Oh? Where?"</p> + +<p>"At college! My land, think of you at Yale or Harvard or C'lumbia—"</p> + +<p>"Sure you can think; thinkin' can't cut no ice."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, you're goin' soon as you're fit; Mr. Geoffrey says so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoff's batty—he's talkin' in his sleep. I ain't goin' t' no +college—Geoff's got sappy in th' bean—"</p> + +<p>"Well, you tell him so."</p> + +<p>"Sure thing—you watch me!"</p> + +<p>"No, I'll get you somethin' t' eat—some milk an'—"</p> + +<p>"Say, what about that punkin pie?"</p> + +<p>"You sit right there an' wait."</p> + +<p>"Chin-Chin!" nodded Spike, and watched her into the house.</p> + +<p>No sooner was he alone than he was out of his chair and, descending the +steps into the garden, sped gleefully away across lawns and along +winding paths, following a haphazard course. But, as he wandered thus, +he came to the stables and so to a large building beyond, where were +many automobiles of various patterns and make; and here, very busy +with brushes, sponge, and water, washing a certain car and making a +prodigious splashing, was a figure there was no mistaking, and one whom +Spike hailed in joyous surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, if it ain't th' old Spider! Gee, but I'm glad t' see you! +Say, old sport, I'm a invalid—pipe my bandages, will ye?"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" grunted the Spider, without glancing up from the wheel he was +washing.</p> + +<p>"Say, old lad," continued Spike, "I guess they told you how I put it all +over Bud, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Mph!" said the Spider, slopping the water about.</p> + +<p>"Heard how I saved old Geoff from gettin' snuffed out, didn't yer?"</p> + +<p>"Huh-umph!" growled the Spider.</p> + +<p>"That's sure some car, eh? Gee, but it's good t' see you again, anyway. +How'd you come here, Spider?"</p> + +<p>"U-huh!" said the Spider.</p> + +<p>"Say," exclaimed Spike, "quit makin' them noises an' say somethin', +can't yer? If you can't talk t' a pal, I'm goin'."</p> + +<p>"Right-o, Kid!" said the Spider; "only see as you don't go sheddin' no +more buttons around."</p> + +<p>"B-buttons!" stammered Spike. "What yer mean? What buttons?"</p> + +<p>The Old Un, who happened to have been dozing in the limousine that stood +in a shady corner, sat up suddenly and blinked.</p> + +<p>"Why, I mean," answered the Spider, wringing water from the sponge he +held and speaking very deliberately, "I mean the button as you—left +behind you—in th' wood!"</p> + +<p>Spike gasped and sat down weakly upon the running-board of a car, and +the Old Un stole a furtive peep at him.</p> + +<p>"So you—know—?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I know—more 'n I want t' know about you, so—chase yourself out +o' here—beat it!"</p> + +<p>Spike stared in mute amazement, then flushed painfully.</p> + +<p>"You mean—you an' me—ain't goin' t' be pals no longer?" he asked +wistfully.</p> + +<p>"That's what!" nodded the Spider, without lifting his scowling gaze from +the sponge. "Kid, I ain't no Gold-medal Sunday-school scholar nor I +ain't never won no prizes at any Purity League conference, but there's +some guys too rotten even f'r me!"</p> + +<p>"But I—I—saved his life, didn't I?"</p> + +<p>"That ain't nothin' t' blow about after what you did in that wood. Oh, +wake up an' see just how dirty an' rotten you are!"</p> + +<p>Spike rose and stood, his hands tight-clenched, and though he tried to +frown, he couldn't hide the pitiful twitching of his lips nor the quaver +in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I guess you mean you're goin' t' give me th' throw-down?"</p> + +<p>"Well," answered the Spider, scowling at the sponge in his hand, +"there's jest two or three things as I ain't got no use for, an' one +of 'em's—murder!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon Spike shrank away, and the Old Un, reaching out stealthily, +opened the door of the limousine while the Spider fell to work again, +splashing more than ever. Thus as Spike crept away with head a-droop, +the Old Un, all unnoticed, stole after him, his old eyes very bright and +birdlike, and, as he followed, keeping in the shade of hedge and tree as +much as possible, he whispered a word to himself over and over again:</p> + +<p>"Lorgorramighty!"</p> + +<p>But Spike went on with dragging feet, ignorant that any one followed, +lost in a sudden sense of shame such as he had never known before—a +shame that was an agony: for though his bodily eyes were blinded with +bitter tears, the eyes of his mind were opened wide at last, and he saw +himself foul and dirty, even as the Spider had said. So on stumbling +feet Spike reached a shady, grassy corner remote from all chance of +observation and, throwing himself down there, he lay with his face +hidden, wetting the grass with the tears of his abasement.</p> + +<p>When at last he raised his head, he beheld a little old man leaning +patiently against a tree near by and watching him with a pair of baleful +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" said Spike wearily. "Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm Fate, I am!" nodded the Old Un. "Persooin' Fate, that's me."</p> + +<p>"What yer here for, anyway?" enquired the lad, humble in his abasement.</p> + +<p>"I'm here to persoo!"</p> + +<p>"Say, now, what's your game; what yer want?"</p> + +<p>"I want you, me lad."</p> + +<p>"Well, say—beat it, please—I want t' be alone."</p> + +<p>"Not much, me lad. I'm Fate, I am, an' when Fate comes up agin murder, +Fate ain't t' be shook off."</p> + +<p>"Murder!" gasped Spike. "Oh, my God! I—I ain't—"</p> + +<p>The lad sprang to his feet and was running on the instant, but turning +to glance back, tripped over some obstacle and fell. Swaying he rose and +stumbled on, but slower now by reason of the pain in his wounded arm. +Thus, when at last he came out upon the road, the Old Un was still close +behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE OBTAINS HIS OBJECT</h3> + + +<p>Mrs. Trapes glanced sadly around her cosy housekeeper's room and sighed +regretfully; she was alone, and upon the table ready to hand lay her +neat bonnet, her umbrella, and a pair of white cotton gloves, beholding +which articles her lips set more resolutely, her bony arms folded +themselves more tightly, and she nodded in grim determination.</p> + +<p>"The labourer is worthy of his hire!" she sighed, apparently addressing +the bonnet, "but, if so be the labourer ain't worthy, why then, the +sooner he quits—"</p> + +<p>A sound of quick, light feet upon the stair and a voice that laughed +gaily, a laugh so full of happiness that even Mrs. Trapes's iron +features relaxed, and her grim mouth curved in her rare smile. At that +moment the door opened and Hermione appeared, a radiant Hermione who +clasped Mrs. Trapes in her arms and tangled her up in her long motor +veil and laughed again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ann, such a day!" she exclaimed, laying aside her long dust-coat. +"New York is a paradise—when you're rich! No more bargain days and +clawing matches over the remnant counter, Ann! Oh, it's wonderful to be +able to buy anything I want—anything! Think of it, Ann, isn't it just +a dream of joy? And I've shopped and shopped, and he was so dear and +patient! I bought Arthur a complete outfit—"</p> + +<p>"Arthur!" said Mrs. Trapes, and groaned.</p> + +<p>"And you, Ann, you dear thing, I bought you—guess what? But you never +could! I bought you a gold watch, the very best I could find, and he +bought you a chain for it, a long one to go around your dear neck, set +with diamonds and rubies, I mean the chain is—it's the cutest thing, +Ann! You remember you used to dream of a gold chain set with real +diamonds, some day? Well, 'some day's' to-day, Ann."</p> + +<p>"But—oh, Hermy, I—I—"</p> + +<p>"He wants to give it you himself, because he says you're the best friend +he ever had and—oh, here he is! You did say so, didn't you, Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"And I surely mean it!" answered Ravenslee, tossing his driving +gauntlets into a chair, "though you certainly threw cold water upon my +peanut barrow, didn't you, Mrs. Trapes?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoffrey, dear, do give her that precious package; I'm dying to see +her open it!"</p> + +<p>So Ravenslee drew the jeweller's neat parcel from his pocket and put +it into Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand. For a moment her bony fingers +clutched it, then she sighed tremulously and, placing it on the table, +rose and stood staring down at it. When at last she spoke, her voice was +harsher than usual.</p> + +<p>"Hermy, dear—I mean Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, I—can't—take 'em!"</p> + +<p>"But, dear—why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because they're coals o' fire."</p> + +<p>"But you must take them, dear; we bought them for you and—"</p> + +<p>"Which jools, ma'am, I can in no wise accept."</p> + +<p>"Why, Ann, dear, whatever—"</p> + +<p>"Which jools, ma'am, having been a dream, must for me so remain, me not +bein' faithful in my dooties to you an' Mr. Geoffrey. Consequently I +begs to tender you now my resignation, yieldin' up my post in your +service to one better worthy, and returnin' t' th' place wherefrom I +come."</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Trapes put on her bonnet, setting it a little askew in her +agitation.</p> + +<p>"Th' labourer is worthy of his hire, but if he ain't—so be it!"</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Trapes tied her bonnet strings so tightly and with such +resolute hands that she choked.</p> + +<p>"Why, Ann dear," cried Hermione, "whatever do you mean? As if I could +bear to part with you!" Here she untied the bonnet strings. "As if I +could ever let you go back to Mulligan's!" Here she took off the bonnet. +"As if I could ever forget all your tender love and care for me in the +days when things were so hard and so very dark!" Here she tossed the +bonnet into a corner.</p> + +<p>"My land!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, "me best bonnet—"</p> + +<p>"I know, Ann. I made it for you over a year ago, and it's time you had +another, anyway! Now, open that parcel—this minute!"</p> + +<p>But instead of doing so, Mrs. Trapes sank down in the chair beside the +table and bowed her head in her hands.</p> + +<p>"Hermy," said she, "oh, my lamb, he's gone! You left Arthur in my care +an'—he's gone, an' it's my fault. Went away at five o'clock, an' here +it is nigh on to ten—an' him sick! God knows I've searched for +him—tramped to th' ferry an' back, an' th' footmen they've looked for +him an' so have th' maids—but Arthur's gone—an' it's my fault! So, +Hermy—my dear—blame me an' let me go—"</p> + +<p>The harsh voice broke and, bowing her head, she sat silent, touching the +unopened packet of jewellery with one long, bony finger.</p> + +<p>"Why, Ann—dear Ann—you're crying!" Hermione was down on her knees, +had clasped that long bony figure in her arms. "You mustn't, Ann, you +mustn't. I'm sure it wasn't your fault, so don't grieve, dear—there!" +And she had drawn the disconsolate grey head down upon her shoulder and +pillowed it there.</p> + +<p>"But—oh, Hermy, he's gone! An' you told me to—look after him."</p> + +<p>"Ann, if Arthur meant to go, I'm sure you couldn't have prevented him; +he isn't a child any longer, dear. There, be comforted—we'll hunt for +him in the car—won't we, Geoffrey?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," nodded Ravenslee, "I'll 'phone the garage right away."</p> + +<p>But as he opened the door he came face to face with Joe, who touched an +eyebrow and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"S'cuse me, sir," said he, "but it's that Old Un, covered wi' dust 'e +is, sir, an' wants a word wi' you. And, sir, 'e 's that mysterious as +never was. Shall I let him come in, sir?"</p> + +<p>"You try an' keep me out, my lad, that's all!" panted the Old Un, +ducking under Joe's great arm, "I'm better man nor ever you'll be!"</p> + +<p>So saying, the Old Un hobbled forward and, sinking into the nearest +armchair, fanned himself with his hat, which, like the rest of his +garments, bore the dust of travel.</p> + +<p>"Greetin's, Guv!" said he, when he had caught his breath. "'Ere I be—a +old man as 'as done more for ye than all th' young 'uns put t'gether. +Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, best respex!"</p> + +<p>"And what have you been doing now?" enquired Ravenslee, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Well, Guv, I been an' got th' murderer for ye, that's all!"</p> + +<p>Hermione caught her breath suddenly and gazed at the fierce, dusty old +man with eyes full of growing terror; beholding which Ravenslee frowned, +then laughed lightly and, seating himself on a corner of the table, +swung his leg to and fro.</p> + +<p>"So you've found him out, have you, Old Un?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that I have!"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, quite sure, Guv."</p> + +<p>"Well, where is he—trot him out."</p> + +<p>"'E's comin' along—th' Spider's bringin' un. Ye see, he's a bit wore +out same as I am—we been trampin' all th' arternoon. Look at me shoes, +that's th' worst o' patent leather—they shows th' dust. Joe, my lad, +jest give 'em a flick over with ye wipe."</p> + +<p>But at this moment steps were heard slowly approaching, and Hermione +uttered an inarticulate cry, then spoke in an agonised whisper: +"Arthur!"</p> + +<p>Pallid of cheek and drooping of head Spike stood in the doorway, his +shabby, threadbare clothes dusty and travel-stained, his slender shape +encircled by the Spider's long arm. At Hermione's cry he lifted his head +and looked up yearningly, his sensitive mouth quivered, his long-lashed +eyes swam in sudden tears, he strove to speak but choked instead; then +Ravenslee's calm, pleasant voice broke the painful silence.</p> + +<p>"Old Un," said he, rising, "I understand you are fond of jam—well, from +now on you shall bathe in it if you wish."</p> + +<p>"Spoke like a true sport, Guv!"</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, you have surely done me a very great service."</p> + +<p>"Meanin' because I found ye th' murderer."</p> + +<p>"Murderer?" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—there 'e is!" and the old man pointed a long finger at the +shrinking Spike.</p> + +<p>"Old Un," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "don't joke with me—"</p> + +<p>"I—I ain't jokin', Guv," cried the Old Un, rising. "Why—oh, +Lorgorramighty, you don't mean t' say as this ain't 'im? Why, 'e 's +confessed, Guv; I 'eard 'im!"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee smiled gently and shook his head again.</p> + +<p>"But he has been sick, Old Un; he was hurt, you know, when he saved my +life."</p> + +<p>"But, Lord, Guv, if 'e 's confessed—"</p> + +<p>"He has been sick, Old Un, and when we are sick the wisest of us are apt +to say silly things—even I did, so they tell me."</p> + +<p>"What?" quavered the old man, "ain't I—ain't I found no murderer for +ye, arter all, Guv?"</p> + +<p>"You've done something much, very much better, Old Un—you've found me +my brother!"</p> + +<p>"Brother!" echoed Spike, "brother? Oh, Geoff—" he sighed deeply, and +as Ravenslee crossed toward him he smiled wanly and sank swooning into +the supporting arms of the Spider, who at a word from Hermione bore the +boy up-stairs; but scarcely was he laid upon his bed than he opened his +heavy eyes.</p> + +<p>"Say, Spider," said he wearily, "old Geoff sure does play square—even +to a worm like me—well, I guess! No, don't go yet, I want yer to hear +me try to explain the kind o' dirty dog I been—I guess he won't want +t' call me 'brother' after that; no, siree, he'll cut me out same as you +have an' serve me right too." Then turning toward where Ravenslee and +Hermione stood he continued: "Geoff—Hermy, dear—ah, no, don't touch +me, I ain't worth it. I'm too dirty—Spider says so—an' I guess he's +right. Listen—I meant t' go away t'day an' leave you because I felt so +mean, but th' old man followed me, an' I couldn't run because my arm +pained some—y' see, I fell on it. So I let him bring me back because I +guess it's up t' me t' let you know as I ain't fit t' be your brother, +Geoff—or Hermy's." For a moment Spike paused, then with an effort he +continued but kept his face averted. "Geoff, it was me—in the wood that +time! Yes, it was me, an' I had a gun. I—I meant—t' do you in, Geoff—"</p> + +<p>Spike's voice failed and he was silent again, plucking nervously at the +sheet, while Hermione's proud head drooped and her hands clasped and +wrung each other in an agony of shame; but to these painfully rigid +hands came another hand, big and strong yet very gentle, at whose +soothing touch those agonised fingers grew lax and soft, then clung +to that strong hand in sudden, eager passion.</p> + +<p>"Poor old Spike!" said Ravenslee, and his tone was as gentle as his +touch.</p> + +<p>"But—but, Geoff," stammered the boy. "I—oh, don't you see? I meant +to—kill you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand; you thought I deserved it—why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was crazy, I guess! Bud told me lies—an' I believed him—lies +about you an' Hermy—he said—you'd make Hermy go—the same road—little +Maggie Finlay went—so I came t' kill you—"</p> + +<p>"Spike, if you believed that, if you really believed that, I don't blame +you for trying a shot—"</p> + +<p>"But I didn't—I couldn't! When I saw you sittin' there so unsuspectin', +I just couldn't do it—I tried to, but I couldn't. An' somehow I dropped +th' gun, an' then I heard a shot, an' when I looked up I saw you throw +out your arms an' fall—my God, I'll never forget that! Then I saw Bud +starin' down at you an' th' pistol smokin' in his hand. I meant t' do it +but I couldn't, so Bud did it himself. I'm as bad as him, I reckon, but +it was Bud shot you—Soapy saw him an' knows it was Bud—ask Soapy. An' +now I've told you all; I guess I ain't fit t' stay here any longer."</p> + +<p>Spike's voice choked upon a sob, he buried his face in the pillow, and +so there fell a silence—a strange, tense hush, a pause so unexpected +that he looked up and saw that Hermione's head was bowed no longer, but +she stood, very proud and tall, gazing upon her husband, and in her eyes +was a great and wondrous light; and as she looked on him so he gazed on +her. They had no thought, no eyes for Spike just then, wherefore he hid +his face again.</p> + +<p>"I guess this about puts the kybosh on th' brother business!" he sighed +miserably, "an' I sure ain't fit t' be th' Spider's pal, I reckon!"</p> + +<p>But now the Spider spoke, rather quick and jerkily:</p> + +<p>"Say, Kid—get onto this! I'm takin' back—everything I says t' you +t'day, see? Because, oh, well—I guess you've sure woke up at last! So, +Kid—give us your mitt!"</p> + +<p>Eagerly Spike grasped the Spider's big fist, and they shook hands +gravely and very deliberately, looking into each other's eyes the while. +Then, still quick and jerkily, the Spider turned and hurried out of the +room. Then Spike turned to Ravenslee.</p> + +<p>"Geoff," he sighed, "I'm not goin' to ask you to forgive me yet, I +can't—I'm goin' t' wait an' show you—"</p> + +<p>But as he paused Ravenslee's hand was upon the lad's drooping shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Arthur," said he, "from now on—from to-night—you are going to be my +brother more than ever—a brother we shall both be proud of—what do you +say?"</p> + +<p>But Spike's eyes were wet, his mouth quivered, and instead of answering +he buried his face in the pillow again.</p> + +<p>"Say, Hermy," he mumbled, "take him away before I do th' tear-gushin' +act! Take him down-stairs—give him a drink—light him a +cigarette—kiss him! Only take him away before I get mushy. But, +say—when I'm in bed, you'll—you'll come an'—say good night like—like +you used to, Hermy dear?"</p> + +<p>Swiftly she stooped and kissed that curly head.</p> + +<p>"I'll come—oh, I'll come, boy, dear!" she murmured, and left him with +Mrs. Trapes.</p> + +<p>Down-stairs the fire glowed, filling the room with shadows, and side by +side they stood looking down into the heart of the fire and were silent +awhile, and, though she was so near, he didn't touch her.</p> + +<p>"So it wasn't Arthur, after all!" he said at last.</p> + +<p>"No," she answered softly, "it wasn't Arthur—thank God!"</p> + +<p>"Amen!" said he, so fervently that she glanced up at him swiftly, then +looked into the fire again. Seeing how the colour deepened in her cheek, +he came a little nearer; but still he didn't touch her; instead, he took +out tobacco pouch and pipe and began to fill it with strangely clumsy +fingers, and Hermione saw that his hands were trembling.</p> + +<p>"Let me!" she said gently. So he surrendered pipe and pouch and, +watching, saw that her hands trembled also; when at last she had filled +the pipe, he took it and laid it on the table.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to smoke, dear?"</p> + +<p>"No, not now. You'll remember that Arthur also suggested you should—"</p> + +<p>"Give you something to drink!" she added a little breathlessly and +crossed to the cellaret in the corner. "Will you have brandy and soda?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks—yes—that will do," he answered absently, and when she +dutifully brought the filled glass he took it and set it down untasted +beside the pipe.</p> + +<p>"Why, Geoffrey!" she said in murmurous surprise, "aren't you thirsty?"</p> + +<p>"No, not now. You will probably remember that Arthur also suggested you +should—"</p> + +<p>"I know!" she breathed, "but, oh, Geoffrey, dear—wait—just a little +longer."</p> + +<p>"Why?" he demanded hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"Because!" she answered, staring down at her clasped hands.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because, my Geoffrey, if—if I let myself—kiss you now, I—shall never +be able to—tear myself away, and I must say good night to Arthur and—"</p> + +<p>She paused as a knock sounded on the door, and Mrs. Trapes appeared.</p> + +<p>"Why, dear land o' my fathers!" she exclaimed. "Ain't you had time t' +take off your bonnet yet, Hermy?"</p> + +<p>"Goodness me!" exclaimed Hermione, "I forgot it!" So saying, off it +came, and there was the curl above her eyebrow more wantonly alluring +than ever.</p> + +<p>"An' there's that blessed b'y," continued Mrs. Trapes, "a-layin' +up-stairs yearnin' for you, Hermy, an' him s' pale an' gentle—God bless +him! An' it now bein' exackly twenty-two an' a half minutes past 'leven +by my beautiful new watch as ticks most musical! Time as you was in +bed—both of you! an' that reminds me, Hermy, I sent your maid t' bed +like you told me, an' with my own two hands I laid out one o' them +lovely noo nightdresses—the one with the short sleeves an' lace as you +showed me last night an'—Land sakes, she's gone! Think o' that now—my, +my! Mrs. Ravenslee's wonderful quick an' light on her feet, Mr. +Geoffrey!"</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Trapes raised the watch to her ear and hearkened to its tick +again, smiling at Ravenslee's broad back as he turned to reach his +glass.</p> + +<p>"Them nightdresses," she sighed, "as is all fluffs an' frills an' +openwork, may be all right when you're young, but for true comfort give +me—flannel, every time."</p> + +<p>Here Ravenslee, in the act of sipping his brandy and soda, choked; when +at last he glanced around, Mrs. Trapes was gone.</p> + +<p>Then he drew a chair to the fire and, sitting down, took up his pipe and +tried to light it, but Hermione's nervous white fingers had packed it +too tightly for mortal suction, whereat he sighed and, yielding to the +impossible, sat with it in his hand, lost in happy thought and waiting +for the swift light footsteps he yearned to hear.</p> + +<p>The clock in the hall without struck midnight, but long after the mellow +chime had died away he sat there waiting; but the great house lay very +still about him, and no sound broke the pervading quiet. Wherefore at +last he grew restless, frowned at the dying fire, and his strong fingers +clenched themselves fiercely about the pipe they still held.</p> + +<p>All at once he started, rose to his feet, and turned toward the door +eager-eyed, as a hand knocked softly; before he could speak it opened, +and Mrs. Trapes reappeared; she was clad in a long flannel dressing +gown, and as she paused in the shadows by the door he could vaguely +define that she still held the precious watch to her ear.</p> + +<p>"It do tick that musical," she said, "an' I can't sleep this night till +I've tried t' thank ye both for—for all your goodness to a lonely +woman. Ah, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess th' day as you came seekin' lodgin's at +my little flat was a good day for Ann Angelina Trapes—why, my land, Mr. +Geoffrey—ain't Hermy here?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Ravenslee a little bitterly. "Oh, no, I'm quite alone—as +usual, Mrs. Trapes."</p> + +<p>"Why, now, that's queer!"</p> + +<p>"How queer?"</p> + +<p>"Because I've jest been into her bedroom, an' there's her things—except +that nightdress—but she—ain't!"</p> + +<p>"Not there? She must be! Did you look in—her bed?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey—her bed ain't been tetched!"</p> + +<p>"Then where in the world is she?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, consulting her watch again, "it is now exactly +fifteen and three-quarter minutes after midnight, so I guess she's in +bed somewhere. But this is a big house, an' there's lots of bedrooms, so +if I was you, I'd go an' look—till I found her—"</p> + +<p>Ravenslee was at the door so swiftly that Mrs. Trapes started, and she +saw his eyes were very bright, and the hands he laid on her bony +shoulders were quivering.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Trapes," said he, "I will!"</p> + +<p>Then he stooped, very suddenly, and kissed the thin, grey hair above her +grim eyebrow, and so—was gone.</p> + +<p>"Find her?" mused Mrs. Trapes, glancing after him up the wide stairs. +"Why, yes, I guess he will sure find her—where she should have been +weeks ago. Lord, what a silly, beautiful, lovely thing love is!" and she +stood awhile smiling down into the fire, and her smile was very tender.</p> + +<p>Then she sighed, switched off the lights, and went softly away.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFINITE OBJECT***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 16074-h.txt or 16074-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/0/7/16074">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/0/7/16074</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/16074.txt b/16074.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d0afb4e --- /dev/null +++ b/16074.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15297 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Definite Object, by Jeffery Farnol + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Definite Object + A Romance of New York + + +Author: Jeffery Farnol + + + +Release Date: June 15, 2005 [eBook #16074] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFINITE OBJECT*** + + +E-text prepared by David Kline, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +THE DEFINITE OBJECT + +A Romance of New York + +by + +JEFFERY FARNOL + +Author of The Broad Highway, The Amateur Gentleman, The Honourable +Mr. Tawnish, Beltane the Smith + +1917 + + + + + + + +CHAPTER + + I Which Describes, among Other Things, a Pair of Whiskers + II Of a Mournful Millionaire Who Lacked an Object + III How Geoffrey Ravenslee Went Seeking an Object + IV Telling How He Came to Hell's Kitchen at Peep o' Day + V How Mrs. Trapes Acquired a New Lodger, Despite her Elbows + VI How Spike Initiated Mr. Ravenslee into the Gentle Art of Shopping + VII Concerning Ankles, Stairs, and Neighbourliness + VIII Of Candies and Confidences + IX Which Recounts the End of an Episode + X Tells How Mr. Ravenslee Went into Trade + XI Antagonism is Born and War Declared + XII Containing Some Description of a Supper Party + XIII Wherein may be Found Some Particulars of the Beautiful City of + Perhaps + XIV Of a Text, a Letter, and a Song + XV Which Introduces Joe and the Old Un + XVI Of the First and Second Persons, Singular Number + XVII How Geoffrey Ravenslee Made a Deal in Real Estate + XVIII How Spike Hearkened to Poisonous Suggestion and Soapy Began to + Wonder + XIX In which the Poison Begins to Work + XX Of an Expedition by Night + XXI How M'Ginnis Threatened and--Went + XXII Tells of an Early Morning Visit and a Warning + XXIII Chiefly Concerning a Letter + XXIV How the Old Un and Certain Others had Tea + XXV How Spike Made a Choice and a Promise + XXVI Which Makes Further Mention of a Ring + XXVII Mrs. Trapes Upon the Millennium + XXVIII Which should have Related Details of a Wedding + XXIX In which Hermione Makes a Fateful Decision + XXX How Geoffrey Ravenslee Departed from Hell's Kitchen + XXXI In which Soapy Takes a Hand + XXXII Of Harmony and Discord + XXXIII Of Tragedy + XXXIV Of Remorse + XXXV How Geoffrey Ravenslee Came Out of the Dark + XXXVI Concerning a Clew + XXXVII The Woes of Mr. Brimberly +XXXVIII In which Soapy Takes upon Himself a New Role + XXXIX The Old Un Advises and Ravenslee Acts + XL Concerning a Handful of Pebbles + XLI Of a Packet of Letters + XLII Tells How Ravenslee Broke his Word and Why + XLIII How Spike Got Even + XLIV Retribution + XLV Of the Old Un and Fate + XLVI In which Geoffrey Ravenslee Obtains his Object + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WHICH DESCRIBES, AMONG OTHER THINGS, A PAIR OF WHISKERS + + +In the writing of books, as all the world knows, two things are above +all other things essential--the one is to know exactly when and where to +leave off, and the other to be equally certain when and where to begin. + +Now this book, naturally enough, begins with Mr. Brimberly's whiskers; +begins at that moment when he coughed and pulled down his waistcoat for +the first time. And yet (since action is as necessary to the success of +a book as to life itself) it should perhaps begin more properly at the +psychological moment when Mr. Brimberly coughed and pulled down the +garment aforesaid for the third time, since it is then that the real +action of this story commences. + +Be that as it may, it is beyond all question that nowhere in this wide +world could there possibly be found just such another pair of whiskers +as those which adorned the plump cheeks of Mr. Brimberly; without them +he might have been only an ordinary man, but, possessing them, he was +the very incarnation of all that a butler could possibly be. + +And what whiskers these were! So soft, so fleecy, so purely white, that +at times they almost seemed like the wings of cherubim, striving to soar +away and bear Mr. Brimberly into a higher and purer sphere. Again, what +Protean whiskers were these, whose fleecy pomposity could overawe the +most superior young footmen and reduce page-boys, tradesmen, and the +lower orders generally, to a state of perspiring humility; to his +equals how calmly aloof, how blandly dignified; and to those a misguided +fate had set above him, how demurely deferential, how obligingly +obsequious! Indeed, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers were all things to all men, +and therein lay their potency. + +Mr. Brimberly then, pompous, affable, and most sedate, having motioned +his visitor into his master's favourite chair, set down the tray of +decanters and glasses upon the piano, coughed, and pulled down his +waistcoat; and Mr. Brimberly did it all with that air of portentous +dignity and leisurely solemnity which, together with his whiskers, made +him the personality he was. + +"And you're still valeting for Barberton, are you, Mr. Stevens?" he +blandly enquired. + +"I've been with his lordship six months, now," nodded Mr. Stevens. + +"Ah!" said Mr. Brimberly, opening a certain carved cabinet and reaching +thence a box of his master's choicest Havanas, "six months, indeed! And +'ow is Barberton? I hacted in the capacity of his confidential valet a +good many years ago, as I told you, and we always got on very well +together, very well, indeed. 'ow is Barberton?" + +"Oh, 'e 'd be right enough if it warn't for 'is gout which gets 'im in +the big toe now and then, and 'is duns and creditors and sich-like low +fellers, as gets 'im everywhere and constant! 'E'll never be quite +'imself until 'e marries money--and plenty of it!" + +"A American hair-ess!" nodded Mr. Brimberly. "Pre-cisely! I very nearly +married 'im to a rich widder ten years ago. 'E'd 'ave been settled for +life if 'e 'd took my advice! But Barberton was always inclined to be a +little 'eadstrong. The widder in question 'appened to be a trifle +par-say, I'll admit, also it was 'inted that one of 'er--lower limbs was +cork. But then, 'er money, sir--'er jools!" Mr. Brimberly raised eyes +and hands and shook his head until his whiskers quivered in a very +ecstasy. + +"But a wooden leg--" began Mr. Stevens dubiously. + +"I said 'limb', sir!" said Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers distinctly +agitated, "a cork limb, sir! And Lord bless me, a cork limb ain't to +be sniffed at contemptuous when it brings haffluence with it, sir! At +least, my sentiments leans that way." + +"Oh--ditto, certainly, sir! I'd take haffluence to my 'eart if she came +with both le--both of 'em cork, if it meant haffluence like this!" Mr. +Stevens let his pale, prominent eyes wander slowly around the luxuriant +splendour of the room. "My eye!" he exclaimed, "it's easy to see as your +governor don't have to bother about marrying money, cork limbs or +otherwise! Very rich, ain't 'e, Mr. Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly set down the decanter he chanced to be holding, and having +caressed each fluffy whisker, smiled. + +"I think, sir," said he gently, "y-es, I think we may answer 'yes' to +your latter question. I think we may tell you and admit 'ole-'earted and +frank, sir, that the Ravenslee fortune is fab'lous, sir, stoopendious +and himmense!" + +"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and his pale eyes, much wider, now +wandered up from the Persian rug beneath his boots to the elaborately +carved ceiling above his head. "My aunt!" he murmured. + +"Oh, I think we're fairly comfortable 'ere, sir," nodded Mr. Brimberly +complacently, "yes, fairly comfortable, I think." + +"Comfortable!" ejaculated the awe-struck Mr. Stevens, "I should say so! +My word!" + +"Yes," pursued Mr. Brimberly, "comfortable, and I ventur' to think, +tasteful, sir, for I'll admit young Ravenslee--though a millionaire and +young--'as taste. Observe this costly bricky-brack! Oh, yes, young Har +is a man of taste indoobitably, I think you must admit." + +"Very much so indeed, sir!" answered Mr. Stevens with his pallid glance +on the array of bottles. "'Three Star,' I think, Mr. Brimberly?" + +"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly in gentle reproach, "you 'ere be'old Cognac +brandy as couldn't be acquired for twenty-five dollars the bottle! Then +'ere we 'ave jubilee port, a rare old sherry, and whisky. Now what shall +we make it? You, being like myself, a Englishman in this 'ere land of +eagles, spread and otherwise, suppose we make it a B and a Hess?" + +"By all means!" nodded Mr. Stevens. + +"I was meditating," said Mr. Brimberly, busied with the bottles and +glasses, "I was cogitating calling hup Mr. Jenkins, the Stanways' butler +across the way. The Stanways is common people, parvynoo, Mr. Stevens, +parvynoo, but Mr. Jenkins is very superior and plays the banjer very +affecting. Our 'ousekeeper and the maids is gone to bed, and I've give +our footmen leave of habsence--I thought we might 'ave a nice, quiet +musical hour or so. You perform on the piano-forty, I believe, sir?" + +"Only very occasional!" Mr. Stevens admitted. "But," and here his pale +eyes glanced toward the door, "do I understand as he is out for the +night?" + +"Sir," said Mr. Brimberly ponderously, "what ''e' might you be pleased +to mean?" + +"I was merely allooding to--to your governor, sir." + +Mr. Brimberly glanced at his guest, set down the glass he was in the act +of filling and--pulled down his waistcoat for the second time. + +"Sir," said he, and his cherubic whiskers seemed positively to quiver, +"I presoom--I say, I presoom you are referring to--Young Har?" + +"I meant Mr. Ravenslee." + +"Then may I beg that you'll allood to him 'enceforth as Young Har? This +is Young Har's own room, sir. These is Young Har's own picters, sir. +When Young Har is absent, I generally sit 'ere with me cigar and observe +said picters. I'm fond of hart, sir; I find hart soothing and restful. +The picters surrounding of you are all painted by Young Har's very own +'and--subjeks various. Number one--a windmill very much out o' repair, +but that's hart, sir. Number two--a lady dressed in what I might term +dish-a-bell, sir, and there isn't much of it, but that's hart again. +Number three--a sunset. Number four--moonlight; 'e didn't get the moon +in the picter but the light's there and that's the great thing--effect, +sir, effect! Of course, being only studies, they don't look +finished--which is the most hartisticest part about 'em! But, lord! +Young Har never finishes anything--too tired! 'Ang me, sir, if I don't +think 'e were born tired! But then, 'oo ever knew a haristocrat as +wasn't?" + +"But," demurred Mr. Stevens, staring down into his empty glass, "I +thought 'e was a American, your--Young Har?" + +"Why, 'e is and 'e ain't, sir. His father was only a American, I'll +confess, but his mother was blue blood, every drop guaranteed, sir, and +as truly English as--as I am!" + +"And is 'e the Mr. Ravenslee as is the sportsman? Goes in for boxing, +don't 'e? Very much fancied as a heavyweight, ain't 'e? My governor's +seen him box and says 'e's a perfect snorter, by Jove!" + +Mr. Brimberly sighed, and soothed a slightly agitated whisker. + +"Why, yes," he admitted, "I'm afraid 'e does box--but only as a +ammitoor, Mr. Stevens, strickly as a ammitoor, understand!" + +"And he's out making a night of it, is 'e?" enquired Mr. Stevens, +leaning back luxuriously and stretching his legs. "Bit of a rip, ain't +'e?" + +"A--wot, sir?" enquired Mr. Brimberly with raised brows. + +"Well, very wild, ain't he--drinks, gambles, and hetceteras, don't he?" + +"Why, as to that, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, dexterously performing +on the syphon, "I should answer you, drink 'e may, gamble 'e do, +hetceteras I won't answer for, 'im being the very hacme of +respectability though 'e is a millionaire and young." + +"And when might you expect 'im back?" + +"Why, there's no telling, Mr. Stevens." + +"Eh?" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and sat up very suddenly. + +"'Is movements, sir, is quite--ah--quite metehoric!" + +"My eye!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, gulping his brandy and soda rather +hastily. + +"Metehoric is the only word for it, sir!" pursued Mr. Brimberly with a +slow nod. "'E may drop in on me at any moment, sir!" + +"Why, then," said his guest, rising, "p'r'aps I'd better be moving?" + +"On the other 'and," pursued Mr. Brimberly, smiling and caressing his +left whisker, "'e may be on 'is way to Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor at +this pre-cise moment--'e is that metehoric, lord! These millionaires is +much of a muchness, sir, 'ere to-day, gone to-morrer. Noo York this +week, London or Paris the next. Young Har is always upsetting my plans, +'e is, and that's a fact, sir! Me being a nat'rally quiet, reasonable, +and law-abiding character, I objects to youthful millionaires on +principle, Mr. Stevens, on principle!" + +"Ditto!" nodded Mr. Stevens, his glance wandering uneasily to the door +again, "ditto with all my 'eart, sir. If it's all the same to you, I +think p'r'aps I'd better be hopping--you know--" + +"Oh, don't you worry about Young Har; 'e won't bother us to-night; 'e's +off Long Island way to try his newest 'igh-power racing car--'e's +driving in the Vanderbilt Cup Race next month. To-night 'e expects to do +eighty miles or so, and 'opes to sleep at one of 'is clubs. I say 'e +'opes an' expects so to do!" + +"Yes," nodded Mr. Stevens, "certainly, but what do you mean?" + +"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly, "if you'd been forced by stern dooty to sit +be'ind Young Har in a fast automobile as I 'ave, you'd know what I mean. +Reckless? Speed? Well, there!" and Mr. Brimberly lifted hands and eyes +and shook his head until his whiskers vibrated with horror. + +"Then you're pretty sure," said Mr. Stevens, settling luxurious boots +upon a cushioned chair, "you're pretty sure he won't come bobbing up +when least expected?" + +"Pretty sure!" nodded Mr. Brimberly. "You see, this nooest car is the +very latest thing in racing cars--cost a fortune, consequently it's +bound to break down--these here expensive cars always do, believe me!" + +"Why, then," said Mr. Stevens, helping himself to one of Mr. Brimberly's +master's cigars, "I say let joy and 'armony be unconfined! How about +Jenkins and 'is banjer?" + +"I'll call 'im up immediate!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, rising. "Mr. Jenkins +is a true hartist, equally facetious and soulful, sir!" + +So saying, Mr. Brimberly arose and crossed toward the telephone. But +scarcely had he taken three steps when he paused suddenly and stood +rigid and motionless, his staring gaze fixed upon the nearest window; +for from the shadowy world beyond came a sound, faint as yet and far +away, but a sound there was no mistaking--the dismal tooting of an +automobile horn. + +"'Eavens an' earth!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, and crossing to the window +he peered out. Once again the horn was heard, but very much nearer now, +and louder, whereupon Mr. Brimberly turned, almost hastily, and his +visitor rose hurriedly. + +"It's very annoying, Mr. Stevens," said he, "but can I trouble you +to--to step--er--down--stairs--_with_ the glasses? It's 'ighly +mortifying, but may I ask you to--er--step a little lively, Mr. +Stevens?" + +Without a word, Mr. Stevens caught up the tray from the piano and glided +away on his toe-points; whereupon Mr. Brimberly (being alone) became +astonishingly agile and nimble all at once, diving down to straighten a +rug here and there, rearranging chairs and tables; he even opened the +window and hurled two half-smoked cigars far out into the night; and his +eye was as calm, his brow as placid, his cheek as rosy as ever, only his +whiskers--those snowy, telltale whiskers, quivered spasmodically, very +much as though endeavouring to do the manifestly impossible and flutter +away with Mr. Brimberly altogether; yes, it was all in his whiskers. + +Thus did Mr. Brimberly bustle softly to and fro until he paused, all at +once, arrested by the sound of a slow, firm step near by. Then Mr. +Brimberly coughed, smoothed his winglike whiskers, and--pulled down his +waistcoat for the third time. And lo! even as he did so, the door +opened, and the hero of this history stood upon the threshold. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +OF A MOURNFUL MILLIONAIRE WHO LACKED AN OBJECT + + +Geoffrey Ravenslee was tall and pale and very languid, so languid indeed +that the automobile coat he bore across his arm slipped to the floor ere +Mr. Brimberly could take it, after which he shed his cap and goggles and +dropped them, drew off his gauntlets and dropped them and, crossing to +his favourite lounge chair, dropped himself into it, and lay there +staring into the fire. + +"Ah, Brimberly," he sighed gently, "making a night of it?" + +"Why, sir," bowed his butler, "indeed, sir--to tell the truth, sir--" + +"You needn't, Brimberly. Excellent cigars you smoke--judging from the +smell. May I have one?" + +"Sir," said Brimberly, his whiskers slightly agitated, "cigars, sir?" + +"In the cabinet, I think," and Mr. Ravenslee motioned feebly with one +white hand towards the tall, carved cabinet in an adjacent corner. + +Mr. Brimberly coughed softly behind plump fingers. + +"The--the key, sir?" he suggested. + +"Oh, not at all necessary, Brimberly; the lock is faulty, you know." + +"Sir?" said Brimberly, soothing a twitching whisker. + +"If you are familiar with the life of the Fourteenth Louis, Brimberly, +you will remember that the Grand Monarch hated to be kept waiting--so do +I. A cigar--in the cabinet yonder." + +With his whiskers in a high state of agitation, Mr. Brimberly laid by +the garments he held clutched in one arm and coming to the cabinet, +opened it, and taking thence a box of cigars, very much at random, came +back, carrying it rather as though it were a box of highly dangerous +explosives, and setting it at his master's elbow, struck a match. + +As Mr. Brimberly watched his master select and light his cigar, it +chanced that Young R. raised his eyes and looked at him, and to be sure +those eyes were surprisingly piercing and quick for one so very languid. +Indeed, Mr. Brimberly seemed to think so, for he coughed again, faint +and discreetly, behind his hand, while his whiskers quivered slightly, +though perceptibly. + +"You're 'ome quite--quite unexpected, sir!" + +"Brimberly, I'm afraid I am, but I hope I don't intrude?" + +"Intrude, sir!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Oh, very facetious, sir, very +facetious indeed!" and he laughed, deferentially and soft. + +"I blew the horn, but I see he left his hat behind him!" sighed Young +R., nodding languidly toward the headgear of Mr. Stevens, which had +fallen beneath a chair and thus escaped notice. + +"Why, I--indeed, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, stooping to make a fierce +clutch at it, "I took the liberty of showing a friend of mine your--your +picters, sir--no offence, I 'ope, sir?" + +"Friend?" murmured his master. + +"Name of Stevens, sir, valet to Lord Barberton--a most sooperior person +indeed, sir!" + +"Barberton? I don't agree with you, Brimberly." + +"Stevens, sir!" + +"Ah! And you showed him my--pictures, did you?" + +"Yes, sir, I did take that liberty--no offence, sir, I--" + +"Hum! Did he like 'em?" + +"Like them, sir! 'E were fair overpowered, sir! Brandy and soda, sir?" + +"Thanks! Did he like that, too?" + +"Why, sir--I--indeed--" + +"Oh, never mind--to-night is an occasion, anyway--just a splash of soda! +Yes, Brimberly, when the clocks strike midnight I shall be thirty-five +years old--" + +"Indeed, sir!" exclaimed Brimberly, clasping his plump hands softly and +bowing, "then allow me to wish you many, many 'appy returns, sir, with +continued 'ealth, wealth, and all 'appiness, sir!" + +"Happiness?" repeated Young R., and smiled quite bitterly, as only the +truly young can smile. "Happiness!" said he again, "thank you, +Brimberly--now take your friend his hat, and have the extreme goodness +to make up the fire for me. I love a fire, as you know, but especially +when I am mournful. And pray--hurry, Brimberly!" + +Forthwith Mr. Brimberly bowed and bustled out, but very soon bustled +in again; and now, as he stooped, menial-like, to ply the coal tongs, +though his domelike brow preserved all its wonted serenity, no words +could possibly express all the mute rebellion of those eloquent +whiskers. + +"Hanything more, sir?" he enquired, as he rose from his knees. + +"Why, yes," said Young R., glancing up at him, and beneath the quizzical +look in those sleepy grey eyes, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers wilted +slightly. "You're getting a trifle too--er--portly to hop round on your +knees, aren't you, Brimberly? Pray sit down and talk to me." + +Mr. Brimberly bowed and took a chair, sitting very upright and attentive +while his master frowned into the fire. + +"Thirty-five is a ripe age, Brimberly!" said he at last; "a man should +have made something of his life--at thirty-five!" + +"Certingly, sir!" + +"And I'm getting quite into the sere and yellow leaf, am I not, +Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly raised a plump, protesting hand. + +"'Ardly that, sir, 'ardly that!" said he, "we are hall of us getting +on, of course--" + +"Where to, Brimberly? On where, Brimberly--on what?" + +"Why, sir, since you ask me, I should answer--begging your +parding--'eavens knows, sir!" + +"Precisely! Anyway, I'm going there fast." + +"Where, sir?" + +"Heaven knows, Brimberly." + +"Ah--er--certingly, sir!" + +"Now, Brimberly, as a hard-headed, matter-of-fact, common-sense being, +what would you suggest for a poor devil who is sick and tired of +everything and most of all--of himself?" + +"Why, sir, I should prescribe for that man change of hair, sir--travel, +sir. I should suggest to that man Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor, or both, +sir. There's your noo yacht a-laying in the river, sir--" + +His master leant his square chin upon his square fist and still frowning +at the fire, gently shook his head. + +"My good Brimberly," he sighed, "haven't I travelled in most parts of +the world?" + +"Why, yes, sir, you've travelled, sir, very much so indeed, sir--you've +shot lions and tigers and a helephant or so, and exchanged sentiments +with raging 'eathen--as rage in nothing but a string o' beads--but what +about your noomerous possessions in Europe, sir?" + +"Ah, yes," nodded Young R., "I do possess some shanties and things over +there, don't I, Brimberly?" + +"Shanties, sir!" Mr. Brimberly blinked, and his whiskers bristled +in horrified reproof. "Shanties!--Oh, dear me, sir!" he murmured. +"Shanties--your magnificent town mansion situate in Saint James's +Square, London, as your respected father hacquired from a royal dook, +sir! Shanties!--your costly and helegant res-eye-dence in Park Lane, +sir!" + +"Hum!" said Young R. moodily. + +"Then, in Scotland, sir, we 'ave your castle of Drumlochie, sir--rocks, +turrets, battlements, 'ighly grim and romantic, sir!" + +"Ha!" sighed his young master, frowning at his cigar. + +"Next, sir,--in Italy we find your ancient Roman villa, sir--halabaster +pillows and columns, sir--very historical though a trifle wore with wars +and centuries of centoorians, sir, wherefore I would humbly suggest a +coat or two of paint, sir, applied beneath your very own eye, sir--" + +"No, Brimberly," murmured Young R., "paint might have attractions--Italy, +none!" + +"Certingly not, sir, cer-tingly not! Which brings us to your schloss in +Germany, sir--" + +"Nor Germany! Lord, Brimberly, are there many more?" + +"Ho, yes, sir, plenty!" nodded Mr, Brimberly, "your late honoured and +respected father, sir, were a rare 'and at buying palaces, sir; 'e +collected 'em, as you might say, like some folks collects postage +starmps, sir!" + +"And a collection of the one is about as useless as a collection of the +other, Brimberly!" + +"Why, true, sir, one man can't live in a dozen places all at once, but +why not work round 'em in turn, beginning, say, at your imposing +Venetian palazzo--canals, sir, gondoleers--picturesque though dampish? +Or your shally in the Tyro-leen Halps, sir, or--" + +"Brimberly, have the goodness to--er--shut up!" + +"Certingly, sir." + +"To-day is my birthday, Brimberly, and to-night I've reached a kind of +'jumping off' place in my life, and--between you and me--I'm seriously +thinking of--er--jumping off!" + +"I crave parding, sir?" + +"I'm thirty-five years old," continued Young R., his frown growing +blacker, "and I've never done anything really worth while in all my +useless life! Have the goodness to look at me, will you?" + +"With pleasure, sir!" + +"Well, what do I look like?" + +"The very hacme of a gentleman, sir!" + +"Kind of you, Brimberly, but I know myself for an absolutely useless +thing--a purposeless, ambitionless wretch, drifting on to God knows +what. I'm a hopeless wreck, a moral derelict, and it has only occurred +to me to-night--but"--and here the speaker paused to flick the ash from +his cigar--"I fear I'm boring you?" + +"No, sir--ho, no, not at all, indeed, sir!" + +"You're very kind, Brimberly--light a cigarette! Ah, no, pardon me, you +prefer my cigars, I know." + +"Why--why, sir--" stammered Mr. Brimberly, laying a soothing hand upon +his twitching whisker, "indeed, I--I--" + +"Oh--help yourself, pray!" + +Hereupon Mr. Brimberly took a cigar very much at random, and, while +Young R. watched with lazy interest, proceeded to cut it--though with +singularly clumsy fingers. + +"A light, Mr. Brimberly--allow me!" + +So Ravenslee held the light while Mr. Brimberly puffed his cigar to a +glow, though to be sure he coughed once and choked, as he met Young R.'s +calm grey eye. + +"Now," pursued his master, "if you're quite comfortable, Mr. Brimberly, +perhaps you'll be good enough to--er--hearken further to my tale of +woe?" + +Mr. Brimberly choked again and recovering, smoothed his writhing +whiskers and murmured: "It would be a honour!" + +"First, then, Brimberly, have you ever hated yourself--I mean, despised +yourself so utterly and thoroughly that the bare idea of your existence +makes you angry and indignant?" + +"Why--no, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, staring, "I can't say as I 'ave, +sir." + +"No," said his master with another keen glance, "and I don't suppose you +ever will!" Now here again, perhaps because of the look or something in +Young R.'s tone, Mr. Brimberly took occasion to emit a small, apologetic +cough. + +"You have never felt yourself to be a--cumberer of the earth, Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly, having thought the matter over, decided that he had not. + +"You are not given to introspection, Brimberly?" + +"Intro--ahem! No, sir, not precisely--'ardly that, sir, and then only +very occasional, sir!" + +"Then you've never got on to yourself--got wise to yourself--seen +yourself as you really are?" + +Mr. Brimberly goggled and groped for his whisker. + +"I mean," pursued his master, "you have never seen all your secret +weaknesses and petty meannesses stripped stark naked, have you?" + +"N-naked, sir!" faltered Mr. Brimberly, "very distressing indeed, +sir--oh, dear me!" + +"It's a devilish unpleasant thing," continued Young R., scowling at the +fire again, "yes, it's a devilish unpleasant thing to go serenely on our +flowery way, pitying and condemning the sins and follies of others and +sublimely unconscious of our own until one day--ah, yes--one day we meet +Ourselves face to face and see beneath all our pitiful shams and +hypocrisies and know ourselves at last for what we really are--behold +the decay of faculties, the degeneration of intellect bred of sloth and +inanition and know ourselves at last--for exactly what we are!" + +Mr. Brimberly stared at the preoccupation of his master's scowling brow +and grim-set mouth, and, clutching a soft handful of whisker, murmured: +"Certingly, sir!" + +"When I was a boy," continued Ravenslee absently, "I used to dream of +the wonderful things I would do when I was a man--by the way, you're +quite sure I'm not boring you--?" + +"No, sir--certingly not, sir--indeed, sir!" + +"Take another cigar, Brimberly--oh, put it in your pocket, it will do +to--er--to add to your collection! But, as I was saying, as a boy I was +full of a godlike ambition--but, as I grew up, ambition and all the +noble things it leads to, sickened and died--died of a surfeit of +dollars! And to-day I am thirty-five and feel that I can't--that I never +shall--do anything worth while--" + +"But, sir," exclaimed Mr. Brimberly with a bland and reassuring smile, +"you are one as don't have to do nothing--you're rich!" + +Mr. Ravenslee started. + +"Rich!" he cried, and turning, he glanced at Mr. Brimberly, and his +square chin looked so very square and his grey eyes so very piercing +that Mr. Brimberly, loosing his whisker, coughed again and shifted his +gaze to the Persian rug beneath his feet; yet when Young R. spoke again, +his voice was very soft and sleepy. + +"Rich!" he repeated, "yes, that's just the unspeakable hell of it--it's +money that has crippled all endeavours and made me what I am! Rich? I'm +so rich that my friends are all acquaintances--so rich that I might buy +anything in the world except what I most desire--so rich that I am tired +of life, the world, and everything in the world, and have been seriously +considering a--er--a radical change. It is a comfort to know that we may +all of us find oblivion when we so desire." + +"Oblivion!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, mouthing the word sonorously, +"oblivion, sir, certingly--my own sentiments exactly, sir--for, though +not being a marrying man myself, sir, I regard it with a truly reverent +heye and 'umbly suggest that for you such a oblivious change would be--" + +"Brimberly," said Young R., turning to stare in lazy wonder, "where in +the world are you getting to now?" + +Mr. Brimberly coughed and touched a whisker with dubious finger. + +"Wasn't you allooding to--hem!--to matrimony, sir?" + +"Matrimony! Lord, no! Hardly so desperate a course as that, Brimberly. I +was considering the advisability of--er--this!" And opening a drawer in +the escritoire, Young R. held up a revolver, whereat Mr. Brimberly's +whiskers showed immediate signs of extreme agitation, and he started to +his feet. + +"Mr. Ravenslee, sir--for the love o' Gawd!" he exclaimed, "if it's a +choice between the two--try matrimony first, it's so much--so much +wholesomer, sir!" + +"Is it, Brimberly? Let me see, there are about five hundred highly +dignified matrons in this--er--great city, wholly eager and anxious +to wed their daughters to my dollars (and incidentally myself) even +if I were the vilest knave or most pitiful piece of doddering +antiquity--faugh! Let's hear no more of matrimony." + +"Certingly not, sir!" bowed Mr. Brimberly. + +"And I'm neither mad, Brimberly, nor drunk, only--speaking +colloquially--I'm 'on to' myself at last. If my father had only left me +fewer millions, I might have been quite a hard-working, useful member of +society, for there's good in me, Brimberly. I am occasionally aware of +quite noble impulses, but they need some object to bring 'em out. An +object--hum!" Here Mr. Ravenslee put away the revolver. "An object to +work for, live for, be worthy of!" Here he fell to frowning into the +fire again and stared thus so long that at last Mr. Brimberly felt +impelled to say: + +"A hobject, of course, sir! A hobject--certingly, sir!" But here he +started and turned to stare toward the windows as from the darkness +beyond two voices were uplifted in song; two voices these which sang the +same tune and words but in two different keys, uncertain voices, now +shooting up into heights, now dropping into unplumbable deeps, two shaky +voices whose inconsequent quaverings suggested four legs in much the +same condition. + +"Brimberly," sighed his master, "what doleful wretches have we here?" + +"Why, sir, I--I rather fancy it's William and James--the footmen, sir," +answered Mr. Brimberly between bristling whiskers. "Hexcuse me, +sir--I'll go and speak to 'em, sir--" + +"Oh, pray don't trouble yourself, Mr. Brimberly; sit down and hearken! +These sad sounds are inspired by deep potations--beer, I fancy. Be +seated, Mr. Brimberly." + +Mr. Brimberly obeyed, and being much agitated dropped his cigar and +grovelled for it, and it was to be noted thereafter that as the singers +drew nearer, he shuffled on his chair with whiskers violently a-twitch, +while his eyes goggled more and his domelike brow grew ever moister. But +on came the singing footmen and passed full-tongued, wailing out each +word with due effect, thus: + +"--my sweet 'eart's--me mother +The best--the dearest--of--'em all." + +"Hum!" murmured Young R., "I admire the sentiment, Brimberly, but the +execution leaves something to be desired, perhaps--" + +"If you'll only let me go out to 'em, sir!" groaned Mr. Brimberly, +mopping himself with a very large, exceeding white handkerchief, "if you +honly will, sir!" + +"No, Brimberly, no--it would only distress you, besides--hark! their +song is ended, and rather abruptly--I rather fancy they have fallen down +the terrace steps." + +"And I 'opes," murmured Mr. Brimberly fervently, "I do 'ope as they've +broke their necks!" + +"Of course I ought to have gone out and switched on the lights for +them," sighed Young R, "but then, you see, I thought they were safe in +bed, Brimberly!" + +"Why, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, mopping furiously, "I--I ventured to +give 'em a hour's leave of habsence, sir; I ventured so to do, sir, +because, sir--" + +"Because you are of rather a venturesome nature, aren't you, Brimberly?" + +"No offence, sir, I 'ope?" + +"None at all, Mr. Brimberly--pray calm yourself and--er--take a little +brandy." + +"Sir?" + +"Your glass is under the chair yonder, or is it your friend's?" + +Mr. Brimberly goggled toward Mr. Stevens' betraying glass, picked it +up, and sat staring at it in vague and dreamy fashion until, rousing at +his master's second bidding, he proceeded to mix brandy and soda, his +gaze still profoundly abstracted and his whiskers drooping with an +abnormal meekness. + +At this juncture a knock sounded at the door, and a chauffeur appeared, +looking very smart in his elegant livery; a thick-set man, mightily deep +of chest, whose wide shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and whose +long, gorilla-like arms ended in two powerful hands; his jaw was +squarely huge, his nose broad and thick, but beneath his beetling brows +blinked two of the mildest blue eyes in the world. + +"What is it, Joe?" + +"And what time will ye be wantin' the car in the mornin', sir?" he +enquired. + +"The morning, Joe? Who can say what may happen between now and then?" + +"Shall I have her round at eleven, sir, or--" + +"Eleven will do as well as any other time--let it go at that." + +"You was to see your broker, Mr. Anderson, in the morning over them +steamship shares, sir." + +"Shares, Joe, are a vanity; all is vanity--they weary me. Mr. Brimberly +yawns, and you look sleepy--good night, Joe; pleasant dreams." + +"Good night, sir!" and touching his right eyebrow, Joe went out, closing +the door behind him. + +"And now," said Mr. Ravenslee, puffing languidly at his cigar, +"referring to the necessary object, there is a chance that it may be +found--even yet, Mr. Brimberly!" + +"Object, sir," murmured Mr. Brimberly, "found, sir--to be sure, sir." + +"Yes; I intend you shall find it for me, Brimberly." + +Mr. Brimberly's abstraction gave place to sudden amaze. + +"Find it--wot, me, sir? Hexcuse me, sir, but did you say--" Mr. +Brimberly actually gaped! + +"You, Brimberly, of course!" + +"But--but wot kind of a hobject--and where, sir?" + +"Really," sighed Young R., "these are quite fool questions for one of +your hard-headed common sense! If I knew exactly 'what' and 'where', I'd +go and find it myself--at least, I might!" + +"But--'ow in the world, sir--begging your parding I'm sure, but 'ow am I +to go a-finding hobjex as I've never seen nor 'eard of?" + +"Brimberly, I pass! But if you manage it in--say a week, I'll double +your wages and give you a--er--a bonus into the bargain; think it over." + +"I--I will, sir--indeed, sir!" + +"Very well; you may go." + +"Certingly, sir." Mr. Brimberly bowed and crossed to the door but, being +there, paused. "Double me wages I think it were, sir, _and_ a bonus? +Very 'andsome, very 'andsome indeed, sir--thank you, sir." Saying which, +Mr. Brimberly bowed himself out, but immediately bowed himself in again. + +"Sir," said he, "if you could give me some hidea, sir--" + +"Some what?" + +"A few 'ints, sir, as to the nature of said hobject--whether animal, +mineral, or nooter, sir?" + +"Well--perhaps 'animal' might be the more interesting." + +"Now--as to gender, sir--masculine shall we say, or shall we make it +feminine?" + +"Oh--either will do! And yet, since you offer so wide a selection, +perhaps--er--feminine--?" + +"Very good, sir!" + +"And you'd better make it singular number, Brimberly." + +"Certingly, sir, much obliged, sir! Will you be wanting me again, sir?" + +"Not again, Brimberly." + +"Then good night, sir--thank you, sir!" And Mr. Brimberly went softly +forth and closed the door noiselessly behind him. + +Being alone, Mr. Ravenslee switched off the lights and sat in the +fire-glow. + +"Feminine gender, singular number, objective case, governed by the +verb--to love--I wonder!" + +And he laughed a little bitterly (and very youthfully) as he stared down +into the dying fire. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE WENT SEEKING AN OBJECT + + +A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Mr. Ravenslee sat there +long after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk upon his broad +chest, his sombre eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in +profound and gloomy meditation. But, all at once, he started and glanced +swiftly around toward a certain window, the curtains of which were only +partly drawn, and his lounging attitude changed instantly to one of +watchful alertness. + +As he sat thus, broad shoulders stooped, feet drawn up--poised for swift +action, he beheld a light that flashed here and there, that vanished and +came again, hovering up and down and to and fro outside the window; +wherefore he reached out a long arm in the gloom and silently opened a +certain drawer in the escritoire. + +Came a soft click, a faint creak, and a breath of cool, fragrant air as +the window was cautiously opened, and a shapeless something climbed +through, while Mr. Ravenslee sat motionless--waiting. + +The flashing light winked again, a small, bright disc that hovered +uncertainly and finally steadied upon the carved cabinet in the corner, +and the Something crept stealthily thither. A long-drawn, breathless +minute and then--the room was flooded with brilliant light, and a +figure, kneeling before the cabinet, uttered a strangled cry and leapt +up, only to recoil before Mr. Ravenslee's levelled revolver. + +A pallid-faced, willowy lad, this, of perhaps seventeen, who, sinking to +his knees, threw up an arm across his face, then raised both hands above +his head. + +"Ah, don't shoot, mister!" he gasped. "Oh, don't shoot--I got me hands +up!" + +"Stand up!" said Ravenslee grimly, "up with you and shutter that +window--you may have friends outside, and I'm taking no chances! +Quick--shutter that window, I say." + +The lad struggled to his feet and, crossing to the window, fumbled the +shutter into place, his ghastly face turning and turning toward the +revolver that glittered in such deadly fashion in Mr. Ravenslee's steady +hand. At length, the shutters barred, the boy turned, and moistening dry +lips, spoke hoarsely and with apparent effort. + +"Oh, mister--don't go for to--croak a guy as--as ain't done nothing!" + +"You broke into my house!" + +"But I--haven't took nothin'!" + +"Because I happened to catch you!" + +"But--but--oh, sir," stammered the boy, taking off his cap and fumbling +with it while he stared wide-eyed at the threatening revolver, "I--I +ain't a real thief--cross me heart and hope to die, I ain't! Don't croak +me, sir!" + +"But why in the world not?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. "Alone and unaided +I have captured a desperate criminal, a bloodthirsty villain--caught him +in the very act of burgling a cabinet where I keep my cigars of +price--and Mr. Brimberly's, of course! Consequently to--er--croak you +is my privilege as a citizen; it's all quite just and proper--really, +I ought to croak you, you know." + +"I--ain't desprit, mister," the boy pleaded, "I ain't a reg'lar crook; +dis is me first try-out--honest it is!" + +"But then I prefer to regard you as a deep-dyed desperado--you must be +quite--er--sixteen! Consequently it is my duty to croak you on the spot, +or hand you over to the police--" + +"No, no!" cried the boy, his tremulous hands reached out in a passion +of supplication, "not d' cops--don't let th' p'lice get me. Oh, I never +took nothin' from nobody--lemme go! Be a sport and let me beat it, +please, sir!" + +All Mr. Ravenslee's chronic languor seemed to have returned as, leaning +back in the deep-cushioned chair, he regarded this youthful malefactor +with sleepy eyes, yet eyes that missed nothing of the boy's quivering +earnestness as he continued, breathlessly: + +"Oh, I ain't a real crook, I never done nothin' like this before, an' +I never will again if--if you'll only let me chase meself--" + +"And now," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "I'll trouble you for the 'phone, +yonder." + +"Are ye goin' to--call in de cops?" + +"That is my intention. Give me the 'phone." + +"No!" cried the boy, and springing before the telephone he stood there, +trembling but defiant. + +"Give me that telephone!" + +"Not much I won't!" + +"Then of course I must shoot you!" + +The boy stood with head up-flung and fists tight-clenched; Mr. Ravenslee +lounged in his chair with levelled pistol. So they fronted each +other--but, all at once, with a sound between a choke and a groan, the +lad covered his face. + +"Go on!" he whispered hoarsely, "go on--what's keepin' you? If it's the +cops or croaking, I--I'd rather croak." + +"Why?" + +"'Cause if I was ever sent to--prison--it 'ud break her heart, I guess." + +"Her heart?" said Mr. Ravenslee, and lowered the pistol. + +"Me sister's." + +"Ah--so you have a sister?" and Mr. Ravenslee sat up suddenly. + +"Lots o' guys has, but there ain't a sister like mine in all N' +York--nor nowheres else." + +"Who are you? What's your name?" + +"Spike. Me real name's Arthur, but Arthur sounds kinder soft an' sissy; +nobody don't call me Arthur 'cept her, an' I don't mind her." + +"And what's her name?" + +"Hermy--Hermione, sir." + +"Hermione--why, that's Greek! It's a very beautiful name!" + +"Kind of fits her too!" nodded Spike, warming to his theme. "Hermy's +ace-high on the face and figure question! Why, there ain't a swell dame +on Fift' Av'ner, nor nowheres else, got anything on Hermy as a looker!" + +"And what of your father and mother?" + +"Ain't got none--don't remember having none--don't want none; Hermy's +good 'nuff for me." + +"Good to you, is she?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Good t' me!" cried Spike, "good? Well, say--when I think about it I--I +gets watery in me lamps, kinder sloppy in me talk, an' all mushy inside! +Good t' me? Well, you can just bet on that!" + +"And," enquired Mr. Ravenslee sleepily, "are you as good to her?" + +Hereupon Spike turned his cap inside out and looked at it thoughtfully. +"I--I dunno, mister." + +"Ah! perhaps you--make her cry, sometimes?" + +Hereupon Spike began to pick at the lining of his cap and finally +answered: "Sometimes, I guess." + +"Would she cry if she could see you now, I wonder?" + +Hereupon Spike began to wring and twist his cap in nervous hands ere he +answered: "I--I guess she might, perhaps." + +"She must love you a good deal." + +At this, Spike twisted his cap into a ball but spoke nothing; seeing +which Mr. Ravenslee proceeded. + +"You are luckier than I; there isn't a soul in the world to do as much +for me." + +Spike gulped audibly and, thereafter, sniffed. + +"Now suppose," said Mr. Ravenslee, "let us suppose she found out that +the brother she loved so much was a--thief?" + +Hereupon Spike unrolled his cap and proceeded to rub his eyes with it, +and, when at last he spoke, it was in a voice broken by great sobs. + +"Say--cut it out--cut it out! I never meant to--to do it. They got me +soused--doped me, I think, else I'd never have done it. I ain't good, +but I ain't so rotten bad as--what I seem. I ain't no real crook, but if +you wanter croak me for what I done--go ahead! Only don't--don't let d' +cops get me, 'cause o' Hermy. If you croak me, she'll think I got it in +a scrap, maybe; so if you wanter plug me, go ahead!" + +"But what are you shivering for?" + +"I--I'm just waitin', sir," answered Spike, closing his eyes, "I--I seen +a guy shot once!" + +Mr. Ravenslee sighed and nodded. + +"After all," said he, "I don't think I'll croak you," and he slipped +the revolver into his pocket while Spike watched him in sudden tense +eagerness. + +"What yer mean to do wi' me?" he asked. + +"That's the question; what shall I do with you? Let me think." + +"Say," cried the boy eagerly, "you don't have to do no thinkin'--leave +it all to me! It's de winder for mine; I'll chase meself quick--" + +"No you don't! Sit down--sit down, I say!" + +Spike sighed and seated himself on the extreme edge of the chair his +captor indicated. + +"Won't yer lemme beat it, sir?" he pleaded. + +"No, some one else might catch you next time and have the pleasure +of--er--croaking you or handing you over to the police--" + +"There won't be no next time, sir!" cried Spike eagerly. "I'll never +do it no more--I'll cut d' whole gang, I'll give Bud M'Ginnis d' +throw-down--on d' dead level I will, if you'll only let me--" + +"Who's Bud M'Ginnis?" + +"Say," exclaimed the boy, staring, "don't yer know that? Why, Bud's +d' main squeeze with d' gang, d' whole cheese, he is--an' he kind o' +thinks I'm d' candy-kid 'cause he's stuck on me sister--". + +"Ah!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, frowning a little, "and is she--er--stuck on +him?" + +"Not so as you could notice it, she ain't! No, she can't see Bud with a +pair of opry-glasses, an' he's a dead game sport, too! Oh, there ain't +no flies on Bud, an' nobody can lick him, either; but Hermy don't cotton +none, she hasn't got no use for him, see? But say--" Spike rose +tentatively and looked on his captor with eyes big and supplicating. + +"Well, what now?" + +"Why, I thought if you was tired of me chewing d' rag and wanted to hit +the feathers, I'd just cop a sneak. See, if you'll only lemme go, I'll +do d' square thing and get a steady job like Hermy wants me to--honest, +I will, sir! Y' see, me sister's away to-night--she does needleworks for +swell folks an' stops with 'em sometimes--so if you'll only let me beat +it, I can skin back an' she'll never know! Ah!--lemme go, sir!" + +"Well then," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "for her sake I will let you +go--wait! I'll let you go and never speak of your--er--little escapade +here, if you will take me with you." + +Now at this, Spike gaped and fell back a step. + +"Go wi' me--wi' me?" he stammered. "You--go wi' me to Hell's Kitchen--to +Mulligan's Dump--you! Say, what kind o' song and dance are you giving +me, anyway? Aw--quit yer kiddin', sir!" + +"But I mean it." + +"On--on d' level?" + +"On the level." + +"Holy Gee!" and Spike relapsed into wide-eyed, voiceless wonder. + +"Is it a go?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee. + +"But--but, say--" stammered the boy, glancing from the elegant figure in +the chair around the luxurious room and back again, "but you're a--a--" + +"Just a poor, disconsolate, lonely--er--guy!" + +"What!" cried Spike, staring around him again, "with all this? Oh, yes, +you're homeless and starving, you are--I don't think!" + +"Is it a go?" + +"But say--whatcher want to go wi' me for? What's yer game? Put me wise." + +"I am filled with desire to breathe awhile the salubrious air of Hell's +Kitchen; will you take me?" Now as he spoke, beholding the boy's staring +amaze, Mr. Ravenslee's frowning brows relaxed, his firm, clean-shaven +lips quivered, and all at once curved up into a smile of singular +sweetness--a smile before which the hopelessness and fear died out of +the boy's long-lashed eyes, his whole strained attitude vanished, and he +smiled also--though perhaps a little tremulously. + +"Will you take me, Spike?" + +"You bet I will!" exclaimed the boy, his blue eyes shining, "and I'll do +my best to show you I--I ain't so bad as I--as I seem--an' we'll shake +on it if you like." And Spike advanced with his hand outstretched, then +paused, suddenly abashed, and drooping his head, turned away. "I--I +forgot," he muttered, "--I'm--you said I was a--thief!" + +"You meant to be!" said Mr. Ravenslee, and rising, he stretched himself +and glanced at his watch. + +"Are you coming wi' me, sir?" enquired Spike, regarding Mr. Ravenslee's +length and breadth with quick, appraising eyes. + +"I surely am!" + +"But--but not in them glad rags!" and Spike pointed to Mr. Ravenslee's +exquisitely tailored garments. + +"Ah--to be sure!" nodded their wearer. "We'll soon fix that," and he +touched the electric bell. + +"Say," cried Spike, starting forward in sudden terror, "you--you ain't +goin' to give me away?" + +"No." + +"Cross your heart--hope to die, you ain't?" + +"Across my heart and hope to die, I'm not--and there's my hand on it, +Spike." + +"What?" exclaimed the boy, his eyes suspiciously bright, "d' you mean +you will shake--after--after what I--" + +"There's my hand, Spike!" So their hands met and gripped, the boy's hot +and eagerly tremulous, the man's cool and steady and strong; then of a +sudden Spike choked and turning his back brushed away his tears with his +cap. Also at this moment, with a soft and discreet knock, Mr. Brimberly +opened the door and bowed himself into the room; his attitude was +deferential as always, his smile as respectful, but, beholding Spike, +his round eyes grew rounder and his whiskers slightly bristly. + +"Ah, Brimberly," nodded his master, "you are not in bed yet--good!" + +"No, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, "I'm not in bed yet, sir, but when +you rang I was in the very hact, sir--" + +"First of all," said Young R., selecting a cigar, "let me introduce you +to--er--my friend, Spike!" + +Hereupon Mr. Brimberly rolled his eyes in Spike's direction, glanced him +over, touched either whisker, and bowed--and lo! those fleecy whiskers +were now eloquent of pompous dignity, beholding which Spike shuffled his +feet, averted his eyes, and twisted his cap into a very tight ball +indeed. + +But now Brimberly turned his eyes (and his whiskers) on his master, who +had taken out his watch. + +"Brimberly," said he, "it is now very nearly two o'clock." + +"Very late, sir--oh, very late, sir--indeed, I was in the very hact of +goin' to bed, sir--I'd even unbuttoned my waistcoat, sir, when you +rang--two o'clock, sir--dear me, a most un-'oly hour, sir--" + +"Consequently, Brimberly, I am thinking of taking a little outing--" + +"Certingly, sir--oh, certingly!" + +"And I want some other clothes--" + +"Clothes, sir--yessir. There's the noo 'arris tweed, sir--" + +"With holes in them, if possible, Brimberly." + +"'Oles, sir! Beg parding, sir, but did you say 'oles, sir?" + +"Also patches, Brimberly, the bigger the better!" + +"Patches! Hexcuse me, sir, but--patches! I beg parding, but--" Mr. +Brimberly laid a feeble hand upon a twitching whisker. + +"In a word, Brimberly," pursued his master, seating himself upon the +escritoire and swinging his leg, "I want some old clothes, shabby +clothes--moth-eaten, stained, battered, and torn. Also a muffler and +an old hat. Can you find me some?" + +"No, sir, I don't--that is, yessir, I do. Hexcuse me, sir--'arf a +moment, sir." Saying which, Mr. Brimberly bowed and went from the room +with one hand still clutching his whisker very much as though he had +taken himself into custody and were leading himself out. + +"Say," exclaimed Spike in a hoarse whisper and edging nearer to Mr. +Ravenslee, "who's His Whiskers--de swell guy with d' face trimmings?" + +"Why, since you ask, Spike, he is a very worthy person who devotes his +life to--er--looking after my welfare and--other things." + +"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, staring, "I should have thought you was big +'nuff to do that fer yourself, unless--" and here he broke off suddenly +and gazed on Mr. Ravenslee's long figure with a new and more particular +interest. + +"Unless what?" + +"Say--you ain't got bats in your belfry, have you--you ain't weak in the +think-box, or soft in the nut, are ye?" + +"No--at least not more than the average, I believe." + +"I mean His Whiskers don't have to lead you around on a string or watch +out you don't set fire to yourself, does he?" + +"Well, strictly speaking, I can't say that his duties are quite so +far-reaching." + +"Who are you, anyway?" + +"Well, my names are Geoffrey, Guy, Eustace, Hughson-and--er--a few +others, but these will do to go on with, perhaps?" + +"Well, I guess yes!" + +"You can take your choice." + +"Well, Guy won't do--no siree--ye see every mutt's a guy down our +way--so I guess we'll make it Geoff. But, say, if you ain't weak on the +think-machinery, why d' ye keep a guy like His Whiskers hanging around?" + +"Because he has become a habit, Spike--and habits cling--and speaking of +habits--here it is!" Sure enough, at that moment Brimberly's knuckles +made themselves discreetly heard, and Brimberly himself appeared with +divers garments across his arm, at sight of which Spike stood +immediately dumb in staring, awe-struck wonder. + +"Ah, you've got them, Brimberly?" + +"Yessir! These is the best I can do, sir--" + +"Say rather--the worst!" + +"'Ere's a nice, big 'ole in the coat, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, +unfolding the garment in question, "and the weskit, sir; the pocket +is tore, you'll notice, sir." + +"Excellent, Brimberly!" + +"As for these trousis, sir--" + +"They seem rather superior garments, I'm afraid!" said Mr. Ravenslee, +shaking his head. + +"But you'll notice as they're very much wore round the 'eels, sir." + +"They'll do. Now the hat and muffler." + +"All 'ere, sir--the 'at's got its brim broke, sir." + +"Couldn't be better, Brimberly!" So saying, Mr. Ravenslee took up the +clothes and turned toward the door. "Now I'll trouble you to keep an eye +on--er--young America here while I get into these." + +"Sir," said Mr. Brimberly, turning his whiskers full upon Spike, who +immediately fell to shuffling and wringing at his cap. "Sir--I will, +certingly, sir." + +Now when the door had shut after his master, Mr. Brimberly raised eyes +and hands to the ceiling and shook his head until his whiskers quivered. +Quoth he: "Hall I arsks is--wot next!" Thereafter he lowered his eyes +and regarded Spike as if he had been that basest of base minions--a boy +in buttons. At last he deigned speech. + +"And w'en did _you_ come in, pray?" + +"'Bout a hour ago, sir," answered Spike, dropping his cap in his +embarrassment. + +"Ah!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, "about a hour ago--ho! By appointment, I +pre-zoom?" + +"No, sir--by a winder." + +"A--wot?" + +"A winder, sir." + +"A--winder? 'Eavens and earth--a winder--ow? Where? Wot for?" + +"Say, mister," said Spike, breaking in upon Mr. Brimberly's astounded +questioning, "is he nutty?" And he jerked his thumb toward the door +through which Mr. Ravenslee had gone. + +"Nutty!" said Mr. Brimberly, staring. + +"Yes--I mean is he batty? Has he got wheels?" + +"W'eels?" said Mr. Brimberly, his eyes rounder than usual. + +"Well, then, is he daffy?--off his trolley?" + +"Off 'is wot?" said Mr. Brimberly, fumbling for his whisker. + +"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, "can't you understand English? Say, is your +brother as smart as you?" + +"The honly brother as ever I 'ad was a infant as died and--but wot was +you saying about a winder?" + +"Nothin'!" + +"Come, speak up, you young vagabone--" began Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers +suddenly fierce and threatening, but just then, fortunately for Spike, +the door swung, open, and Mr. Ravenslee entered. + +And lo! what a change was here! The battered hat, the faded muffler and +shabby clothes seemed only to show off all the hitherto hidden strength +and vigour of the powerful limbs below; indeed it almost seemed that +with his elegant garments he had laid aside his lassitude also and taken +on a new air of resolution, for his eyes were sleepy no longer, and his +every gesture was lithe and quick. So great was the change that Spike +stared speechless, and Mr. Brimberly gaped with whiskers a-droop. + +"Well, shall I do?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee, tightening his faded +neckerchief. + +"Do?" repeated Spike, "say--you look all to d' mustard, Geoff! You--you +look as if you could--do things, now!" + +"Strangely enough, Spike, I rather feel that way too!" So saying, Mr. +Ravenslee took a pipe from the rack, filled it with quick, energetic +fingers, and proceeded to light it, watched in dumb amaze by the gaping +Brimberly. + +"Brimberly," said he, "I shall probably return to-morrow." + +"Yes, sir," said he faintly. + +"Or the day after." + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Or the day after." + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Or the day after that; anyhow, I shall probably return. Should any one +call--business or otherwise--tell 'em to call again; say I'm out of +town--you understand?" + +"Out of town--certingly, sir." + +"Referring to--to the matter we talked of to-night, Brimberly--" + +"Meaning the hobject, sir?" + +"Precisely! Don't trouble yourself about it." + +"No, sir?" + +"No, Brimberly--I'm going to try and find one for myself." + +"Ho--very good, sir!" + +"And now," said the new Mr. Ravenslee, laying one white, ringless hand +on Spike's shoulder and pointing toward the open door with the other, +"lead on--young Destiny!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TELLING HOW HE CAME TO HELL'S KITCHEN AT PEEP O' DAY + + +It was past three o'clock and dawn was at hand as, by devious ways, +Spike piloted his companion through that section of New York City which +is known to the initiated as "Hell's Kitchen." By dismal streets they +went, past silent, squalid houses and tall tenements looming grim and +ghostly in the faint light; crossing broad avenues very silent and +deserted at this hour, on and on until, dark and vague and mysterious, +the great river flowed before them only to be lost again as they plunged +into a gloomy court where tall buildings rose on every hand, huge and +very silent, teeming with life--but life just now wrapped in that +profound quietude of sleep which is so much akin to death. Into one of +these tall tenement buildings, its ugliness rendered more ugly by the +network of iron fire-escape ladders that writhed up the face of it, +Spike led the way, first into a dark hallway and thence up many stairs +that echoed to their light-treading feet--on and up, past dimly lit +landings where were doors each of which shut in its own little world, a +world distinct and separate wherein youth and age, good and evil, joy +and misery, lived and moved and had their being; behind these dingy +panels were smiling hope and black despair, blooming health and pallid +sickness, and all those sins and virtues that go to make up the sum +total of humanity. + +Something of all this was in Geoffrey Ravenslee's mind as he climbed the +dingy, interminable stair behind Spike, who presently halted to get his +wind and whisper: + +"It ain't much further now, Geoff, only another two flights and--" He +stopped suddenly to listen, and from the landing above a sound reached +them, a sound soft but unmistakable--a woman's muffled sobbing. + +Slowly, cautiously, they mounted the stair until in the dim light of a +certain landing they beheld a slim figure bowed upon its knees in an +agony of abasement before a scarred and dingy door. Even as they stared, +the slender, girlish figure sobbed again, and, with a sudden, yearning +gesture, lifted a face, pale in the half-light, and kissed that battered +door; thereafter, weeping still, she rose to her feet and turned, but +seeing Spike, stood very still all at once and with hands clasped tight +together. + +"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike beneath his breath; then, in a hoarse +whisper: "Is that Maggie--Maggie Finlay?" + +"Oh--is that you, Arthur?" she whispered back. "Arthur--oh, Arthur, I, +I'm going away, but I couldn't go without coming to--to kiss dear mother +good-by--and now I'm here I daren't knock for fear of--father. I've been +up to your door and knocked, but Hermy's away, I guess. Anyway, +you--you'll say I came to thank her and--kiss her for the last time, +won't you, Arthur?" + +"Sure I will--but where ye goin', Maggie?" + +"A long way, Arthur! I don't s'pose I shall ever--see this place any +more--or you--so, Arthur, will you--kiss me good-by--just once?" + +Spike hesitated, but she, quick and light-treading, came down to him and +caught his hand and would have kissed that, but he snatched it away and, +leaning forward, kissed her tear-stained cheek, and blushed thereafter +despite the dark. + +"Good-by, Arthur!" she whispered, "and thank you--and dear Hermy--oh, +good-by!" So saying, she hurried on past Ravenslee, down the dark +stairway, while Spike leaned over the balustrade to whisper: + +"Good-by, Maggie--an' good luck, Kid!" At this she paused to look up at +him with great, sad eyes--a long, wistful look, then, speaking no more, +hurried on down the stair--down, down into the shadows, and was gone. + +"We used to go to school together, Geoff," the boy explained a little +self-consciously, "she never--kissed me before; she ain't the kissin' +sort. I wonder why she did it to-night? I wonder--" + +So saying, Spike turned and led the way on again until they reached the +landing above, across which two doors, dark and unlovely, seemed to +scowl upon each other. One of these Spike proceeded to open with a +latchkey, and so led Ravenslee into the dark void beyond. Spike struck +a match and lighted the gas, and, looking about him, Ravenslee stared. + +A little, cramped room, sparsely furnished yet dainty and homelike, for +the small, deal table hid its bare nakedness beneath a dainty cloth; the +two rickety armchairs veiled their faded tapestry under chintz covers, +cunningly contrived and delicately tinted to match the cheap but +soft-toned drugget on the floor and the self-coloured paper on the +walls, where hung two or three inexpensive reproductions of famous +paintings; and in all things there breathed an air of refinement wholly +unexpected in Hell's Kitchen. Wherefore Mr. Ravenslee, observing all +things with his quick glance, felt an ever-growing wonder. But now +Spike, who had been clattering plates and dishes in the kitchen hard +by, thrust his head around the door to say: + +"Oh, Geoff--I don't feel like doin' the shut-eye business, d' you? How +about a cup of coffee, an' I daresay I might dig out some eats; what d' +ye say?" + +"Is this--your sister?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee, taking up a photograph +from the little sideboard. + +"Yep, that's Hermy all right--taken las' year--does her hair different +now. How about some coffee, Geoff?" + +"Coffee?" said Mr. Ravenslee, staring at the picture, +"coffee--certainly--er--thanks! She has--light hair, Spike?" + +"Gold!" said Spike, and vanished; whereupon Mr. Ravenslee laid the +photograph on the table, and sitting down, fell to viewing it intently. + +A wonderful face, low-browed, deep-eyed, full-lipped. Here was none of +smiling prettiness, for these eyes were grave and thoughtful, these +lips, despite their soft, voluptuous curves, were firmly modelled like +the rounded chin below, and, in all the face, despite its vivid youth, +was a vague and wistful sadness. + +"Oh, Geoff," called Spike, "d' ye mind having yer coffee a la milko +condenso?" + +"Milk?" exclaimed Mr. Ravenslee, starting. "Oh--yes--anything will do!" + +"Why, hello!" exclaimed Spike, reappearing with a cup and saucer, "still +piping off Hermy's photo, Geoff?" + +"I'm wondering why she looks so sad?" + +"Sad?" repeated Spike, setting down the crockery with a rattle, "Hermy +ain't sad; she always looks like that. Y' see, she ain't much on the +giggle, Geoff, but she's most always singing, 'cept when her kids is +sick or Mulligan calls--" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Oh, Hermy mothers all the kids around here when they're sick, an' lots +o' kids is always getting sick. And when Mulligan comes it's rent day, +an' sometimes Hermy's a bit shy on the money--" + +"Is she?" said Mr. Ravenslee, frowning. + +"You bet she is, Geoff! An' Mulligan's an Irishman an' mean--say, he's +the meanest mutt you ever see. A Jew's mean, so's a Chink, but a mean +Harp's got 'em both skinned 'way to 'Frisco an' back again! Why, +Mulligan's that mean he wouldn't cough up a nickel to see the Statue +o' Liberty do a Salomy dance in d' bay. So when the mazuma's shy Hermy +worries some--" + +"Don't you help her?" demanded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Help her--why, y' see, Geoff, I--I ain't in a steady job yet. But I +do my best an'--why, there's d' kettle boilin' at last!" saying which, +Spike turned and vanished again, leaving Mr. Ravenslee still staring +down at the pictured face. Presently he sank back in his chair, and, +lolling thus, looked sleepily at the opposite wall but saw it not, nor +heard the clatter of cups and saucers from the kitchen accompanied by +Spike's windy whistling; and, as he lounged thus, he spoke softly, and +to himself. + +"An object!" he murmured. + +"Hey, Geoff," Spike called, "this ain't goin' to be no a la carte, hock +an' claret feedin' match, nor yet no table-de-hoty eat-fest, but if you +can do in some bacon an' eggs, you're on!" + +"Why, then," said Mr. Ravenslee, rising and yawning, "count me decidedly +'on.'" + +"Then d' you mind givin' me a hand wid d' coffee?" + +"Delighted!" and forthwith Mr. Ravenslee stepped out into the kitchen; +and there, in a while, upon a rickety table covered with a greasy +newspaper, they ate and drank with great relish and gusto, insomuch +that Mr. Ravenslee marvelled at his own appetite. + +"Say, Geoff," enquired Spike as hunger waned, "how long are you stoppin' +at Mulligan's--a week?" + +"A week--a month--six months," replied his guest sleepily. "It's all +according--" + +"Accordin' to what?" + +"Well--er--circumstances." + +"What circumstances?" + +"Circumstances over which I have no control--yet!" + +"You don't mean me?" queried Spike, with an anxious expression. + +"Lord, no!" + +"And you'll never tell nobody that I--that I--" + +"Meant to be--a thief?" drawled Mr. Ravenslee. "Not a word!" + +Spike flushed, took a gulp of coffee, choked, and fell to sulky silence, +while Mr. Ravenslee filled his pipe and yawned. + +"Say," demanded Spike at last, "where'll you live while you're here?" + +"Oh--somewhere, I suppose; I haven't bothered about where yet." + +"Well, I been thinkin' I know where I can fix you up--perhaps!" + +"Very kind of you, Spike!" + +"There's Mrs. Trapes 'cross d'landing; she lost her lodger last +week--mean guy skinned off without paying d' rent--she might take you." + +"Across the landing? She'll do!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"But I'm wonderin' if _you'll_ do; she's a holy terror when she likes, +Geoff." + +"Across the landing? I'll put up with her!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee. + +"But, say, you don't know Mrs. Trapes." + +"Not yet, Spike." + +"Well, she ain't no easy mark, Geoff! Most everybody in Mulligan's is +scared of her when she cuts loose; she can talk ye deaf, dumb an' +paralysed, she can so. She sure is aces up on d' chin-music, Geoff!" + +"But then she lives just opposite, and that circumstance, methinks, doth +cover a multitude of--" Mr. Ravenslee yawned again. + +"Anyway, it's a sure thing she won't take you if she don't like ye, +Geoff." + +"Why, then, she must like me!" said Mr. Ravenslee and proceeded to light +his pipe; whereupon Spike produced a box of cigarettes, but, in the act +of lighting one, paused, and sighing, put it away again. + +"I promised d' Spider I wouldn't, Geoff," he explained. "Y' see, I'm +sort of in trainin', and Spider says smoke's bad for d' wind, and d' +Spider knows." + +"Spider?" said Mr. Ravenslee, glancing up, "do you mean Spider Connolly +the lightweight?" + +"That's d' guy!" nodded Spike. + +"Is he a friend of yours?" + +"Sure! Him an' Bud M'Ginnis is goin' to get me some good matches soon." + +"Boxing matches?" + +"That's what they call 'em, Geoff--but there ain't much boxin' to it; +real boxin' don't go down wid d' sports, it's d' punch they wanter +see--good, stiff wallops as jars a guy an' makes his knees get +wobbly--swings and jolts as makes a guy blind an' deaf an' sick. Oh, +I been like that, an' I know--an' it ain't all candy t' hear everybody +yellin' to the other guy to go in an' finish ye!" + +"Does your sister know you fight?" + +"Not much, she don't! I guess she'd like me to be a mommer's pet in lace +collars an' a velvet suit, an' soft an' pretty in me talk. She's made +me promise t' cut out d' tough-spiel, an' so I'm tryin' to--" + +"Are you really, Spike?" + +"Well--when she's around I do, Geoff!" + +"And she doesn't like you to fight, eh?" + +"Nope! But y' see--she's only a girl, Geoff!" + +"And that's the wonder of it!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Wonder? What d' ye mean?" + +"I mean that all these years she has managed to feed you, and clothe +you, and keep a comfortable home for you, and she's--only a girl!" + +"Well, and ain't I tryin' to make good?" cried the boy eagerly. + +"Are you really, Spike?" + +"Sure! There's lots o' money in d' fightin' game, an' I'm fightin' all +for Hermy. If ever I get a champ, I'll have money to burn, an' then +she'll never be shy on d' dollar question no more, you bet! There'll +be no more needlework or Mulligan's for Hermy; it'll be a farm in d' +country wid roses climbin' around, an' chickens, an'--an' automobiles, +an' servants to come when she pushes d' button--you bet!" + +"Is she so fond of the country?" + +"Well, I guess yes! An' flowers--Gee, she nearly eats 'em!" + +"On the other hand," said Mr. Ravenslee, watching the smoke from his +pipe with a dreamy eye, "on the other hand I gather she does not +like--Mr. M'Ginnis! I wonder why?" + +"You can search me!" answered Spike, shaking his head, "but it's a sure +thing she ain't got no use for Bud." + +"And yet--you go around with him, Spike." + +"But don't I tell ye he's been good t' me! He's goin' t' match me with +some top-liners; he says if I can stick it I'll be a champion sure." + +"Yes," nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but when?" + +"Oh, Bud's got it all doped out. But say--" + +"And in the meantime your sister will go on feeding you and clothing you +and--" + +"Cheese it, Geoff," cried the boy, flushing. "You make a guy feel like a +two-spot in the discard! I told you I'd try to get a steady job, an' so +I will--but I ain't goin' to quit the fightin' game for nobody! 'N' +say--I'm sleepy. How about it? You can have my bed, or the couch here, +or you can get in Hermy's--" + +"Thanks, the couch will do, Spike." + +"Then I guess it's me for the feathers!" said Spike, rising and +stretching, "so long, Geoff!" + +And in a while, having finished his pipe and knocked out the ashes, Mr. +Ravenslee stretched his long limbs upon the chintz-covered sofa, and, +_mirabile dictu_, immediately fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HOW MRS. TRAPES ACQUIRED A NEW LODGER, DESPITE HER ELBOWS + + +He awoke suddenly and sat up to find the room full of sunshine and Spike +standing beside him, a bright-faced, merry-eyed Spike, very spruce and +neat as to person. + +"Say, Geoff," said he, "I've seen Mrs. Trapes, an' she wants you to go +over so she can pipe you off. 'N' say, you're sure up against a catty +proposition in her; if you don't hit it off on the spot as soon as she +gets her lamps onto you, it'll be nix for you, Geoff, an' nothin' +doin'!" + +"Lucid!" said Ravenslee, yawning, "and sounds promising!" + +"Why, y' see, Geoff, she's got a grouch on because I was out last night, +so, if she gives you the gimlet eye at first, just josh her along a bit. +Now slick yourself up an' come on." Obediently Mr. Ravenslee arose and +having tightened his neckerchief and smoothed his curly hair, crossed +the landing and followed Spike into the opposite flat, a place of +startling cleanliness as to floors and walls, and everything therein; +uncomfortably trim of aspect and direfully ornate as to rugs and carpet +and sofa cushions. + +Mrs. Trapes herself was elderly; she was also a woman of points, being +bony and sharp featured, particularly as to elbows, which were generally +bare. Indeed, they might be said to be her most salient and obtrusive +features; but her shrewd, sharp eyes held an elusive kindliness at +times, and when she smiled, which was very rarely, her elbows and her +general sharpness were quite forgotten. + +She was awaiting them in her parlour, enthroned in her best easy chair, +a chair of green velvet where purple flowers bloomed riotously, her feet +firm-planted upon a hearthrug cunningly enwrought with salmon-pink +sunflowers. Bolt upright and stiff of back she sat, making the very +utmost of her elbows, for her sleeves being rolled high (as was their +wont) and her arms being folded within her apron, they projected +themselves to left and right in highly threatening fashion. Sphinx-like +she sat, very silent and very still, while her sharp eyes roved over Mr. +Ravenslee's person from the toes of his boots to the dark hair that +curled short and crisp above his brow. Thus she looked him up and she +looked him down, viewing each garment in turn; lastly, she lifted her +gaze to his face and stared at him--eye to eye. + +And eye to eye Mr. Ravenslee, serene and calm as ever, met her look, +while Spike, observing her granite-like expression and the fierce jut of +her elbows, shuffled, and glanced toward the door. But still Mrs. Trapes +glared up at Mr. Ravenslee, and still Mr. Ravenslee glanced down at Mrs. +Trapes wholly unabashed, nay--he actually smiled, and, bowing his dark +head, spoke in his easy, pleasant voice. + +"A beautiful afternoon, Mrs. Trapes!" + +Mrs. Trapes snorted. + +"This room will suit me--er--admirably." + +Mrs. Trapes started slightly, opened her grim lips, shut them again, +and--wriggled her elbows. + +"Yes, indeed," continued Mr. Ravenslee pleasantly, "I like this room--so +nice and bright, like the rug and wall paper--especially the rug. Yes, I +like the rug and the--er--stuffed owl in the corner!" and he nodded to a +shapeless, moth-eaten something under a glass case against the wall. + +Mrs. Trapes wriggled her elbows again and, glaring still, spoke +harsh-voiced. + +"Young feller, that owl's a parrot!" + +"A parrot--of course!" assented Mr. Ravenslee gently, "and a very fine +parrot too! Then the wax flowers and the antimacassars! What would a +home be without them?" said he, dreamy-eyed and grave. "I think I shall +be very bright and cheerful here, my dear Mrs. Trapes." + +Mrs. Trapes swallowed audibly, stared at Spike until he writhed, and +finally bored her sharp eyes into Mr. Ravenslee again. + +"Young man," said she, "what name?" + +"I think our friend Spike has informed you that I am sometimes called +Geoffrey. Mrs. Trapes, our friend Spike told the truth." + +"Young feller," she demanded, "'oo are you and--what?" + +"Mrs. Trapes," he sighed, "I am a lonely wight, a wanderer in wild +places, a waif, a stray, puffed hither and thither by a fate perverse--" + +"Talking o' verses, you ain't a poet, are you?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, +"last poet as lodged wi' me useter go to bed in 'is boots reg'lar! +Consequently I ain't nowise drawed to poets--" + +Mr. Ravenslee laughed and shook his head. + +"Have no fear," he answered, "I'm no poet nor ever shall be. I'm quite +an ordinary human being, I assure you." + +"Young feller--references?" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I have none--except my face. But you have very sharp eyes; +look at me well. Do I strike you as a rogue or a thief?" + +Here Spike, chancing to catch his eye, blushed painfully, while Mr. +Ravenslee continued: + +"Come, Mrs. Trapes, you have a motherly heart, I know, and I am a very +lonely being who needs one like you to--to cook and care for his bodily +needs and to look after the good of his solitary soul. Were I to search +New York I couldn't find another motherly heart so suited to my crying +needs as yours; you won't turn me away, will you?" Saying which, Mr. +Ravenslee smiled his slow, sleepy smile and--wonder of wonders--Mrs. +Trapes smiled too! + +"When d' ye wanter come?" + +"Now!" + +"Land sakes!" she exclaimed. + +"If it won't trouble you too much?" he added. + +"There's sheets to be aired--" she began, but checked suddenly to stare +at him again. "Look a here, Mr. Geoffrey," she went on, "my terms is +two-fifty a week, ten dollars _with_ board, and a week in advance." + +"Good!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but since I'm coming in at such short +notice, I'll pay three weeks ahead just to--er--bind the bargain. +See--that will be thirty dollars, won't it?" And speaking, he drew a +handful of crumpled bills from his pocket and proceeded to count out +thirty dollars upon the green and yellow tablecloth. + +"Sakes alive!" murmured Mrs. Trapes. + +"And now," said he, "I'll just step around the corner with Spike to +buy--er--a toothbrush." + +"Toothbrush!" echoed Mrs. Trapes faintly. + +"And a few other things. I shall be in early to supper." + +"Would a nice, English mutton chop wiv tomatoes--" + +"Excellent; and thank you, Mrs. Trapes, for sheltering a homeless +wretch." So saying, her new boarder smiled and nodded and, following +Spike out into the hallway, was gone. + +But Mrs. Trapes stood awhile to stare after him, lost in speculation. + +"A toothbrush!" said she. "My! My!" Then she turned to stare down at the +pile of bills. "Now I wonder," said she, right hand caressing left +elbow-point, "I jest wonder who he's been a-choking of to get all that +money? But I like his eyes! And his smile! And he looks a man--and +honest! Well, well!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOW SPIKE INITIATED MR. RAVENSLEE INTO THE GENTLE ART OF SHOPPING + + +"Gee!" exclaimed Spike, as they descended the many stairs, "she sure +gave you the frosty-face, Geoff, but it didn't seem to joggle you any!" + +"No, it didn't joggle me, Spike, because you see--I like her." + +"Like Mrs. Trapes? You 'n' Hermy are about the only ones then; most +every one in Mulligan's hates her an' gets scared stiff when she cuts +loose! But say, you do keep on rubbing it in, I mean about--about +thieving!" + +"Probably it's your conscience, Spike." + +"You won't ever go telling any one or blowing d' game on me?" + +"Spike, when I make a promise I generally keep it." + +"Y' see, Geoff, it ain't as though I was a--a real crook." + +"You meant to be." + +"But I never stole nothin' in my life, Geoff." + +"Suppose I hadn't caught you?" + +"Oh, well, cheese it, Geoff, cheese it! Let's talk about something +else." + +"With pleasure. When does your sister return?" + +"This evening, I guess. But, Geoff--say now, do I look like a real +crook--do I?" + +"No, you don't, Spike, that's sure! And yet--only last night--" + +"Ah, yes, I know--I know!" groaned the lad, "but I was crazy, I think. +It was the whisky, Geoff, an' they doped me too, I guess! I don't +remember much after we left till I found myself in your swell joint. +God! if I was only sure they doped me." + +"Who?" + +"Who? Why--gee, you nearly had me talking that time! Nix on the +questions, Geoff, I ain't goin' to give 'em away; it ain't playin' +square. Only, if two or three guys dopes a guy till a guy's think-box is +like a cheese an' his mind as clear as mud, that poor guy ain't to be +blamed for it, now, is he?" + +"Why, certainly!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"How d' ye make that out?" + +"For being such a fool of a guy as to let other guys fool him, of +course. Sounds a little cryptic, but I guess you understand." + +"Oh, I get you!" sighed Spike drearily. "But say, didn't you come out to +buy a toothbrush?" + +"And other things, yes." + +"Well, say, s'pose we quit chewing th' rag an' start in an' get 'em. +There's a Sheeny store on Ninth Avenue where you can get dandy shirts +for fifty cents a throw." + +"Sounds fairly reasonable!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee as they turned up +Thirty-ninth Street. + +"Then you want a new lid, Geoff!" + +Mr. Ravenslee took off the battered hat and looked at it. + +"What's the matter with this?" he enquired. + +"Nothin', Geoff, only it wants burnin'," sighed Spike. "An' then--them +boots--oh, gee!" + +"Are they so bad as that?" + +"Geoff, they sure are the punkest pavement pounders in little old N' +York. Why, a Dago hodcarrier wouldn't be seen dead in 'em; look at th' +patches. Gee whizz! Where did His Whiskers dig 'em up from?" + +"I fancy they were his own--once," answered Mr. Ravenslee, surveying his +bulbous, be-patched footgear a little ruefully. + +"Well, I'll gamble a stack of blue chips there ain't such a phoney pair +in Manhattan Village." + +"They're not exactly things of beauty, I'll admit," sighed Mr. +Ravenslee, "but still--" + +"They're rotten, Geoff! They're all to the garbage can! They are the +cheesiest proposition in sidewalk slappers I ever piped off!" + +"Hum! You're inclined to be a trifle discouraging, Spike!" + +"Why, ye see, Geoff, I wan'cher t' meet th' push, an' I don't want 'em +to think I'm floatin' around with a down-an'-out from Battyville! You +must have some real shoes, Geoff." + +"Enough--it shall be done!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Well, tan Oxfords are all to th' grapes just now, Geoff. I don't mean +those giddy-lookin' pumps with flossy bows onto 'em, but somethin' +sporty, good an' yellow that'll flash an' let folks know you're comin'. +And here's Eckstein's!" + +With which abrupt remark Spike plunged into a shop, very dark and narrow +by reason of a heterogeneous collection of garments, of ribbons and +laces, of collars and ties of many shapes and hues, together with a +thousand and one other things that displayed themselves from floor to +ceiling; amidst which, Mr. Ravenslee observed a stir, a slight +confusion, and from a screen of vivid-bosomed shirts a head protruded +itself, round as to face and sleek as to hair. + +"Greetin's, Ikey!" said Spike, nodding to the head. "How's pork to-day?" + +"Aw--vat you vant now, hey?" enquired the head. "Vat's the vord; +now--shpit it out!" + +"It ain't me, Moses, it's me friend wants a sporty fit-out an' discount +for spot cash, see? Show us your half-dollar shirts for a starter--an' +sporty ones, mind!" + +Immediately out came drawers and down came boxes, and very soon the +small counter was littered with piles of raiment variously gaudy which +Spike viewed and disparaged with such knowing judgment that the +salesman's respect proportionately grew, and Mr. Ravenslee, lounging in +the background, was forgotten quite, the while they chaffered after this +manner: + +Salesman. "Here vos a shirt as can't be beat for der +money--neglegee boosom an' turnover cuffs, warranted shrunk, and all for +vun dollar." + +Spike. "Come off, Aaron, come off! Fifty cents is th' bid!" + +Salesman. "Fifty cents? Vy, on Broadvay dey'd sharge you--" + +Spike. "Wake up, Ike! This ain't Broadway! And fifty's the +limit!" + +Salesman. "But shust look at dem pink shtripes--so vide as an +inch! Dere's fifty cents' vorth of dye in dem shtripes, an' I'll give it +you for seventy-five cents! On Broadvay--" + +Spike. "We're gettin' there, Ikey, we're gettin' there; keep +on, fifty's the call!" + +Salesman. "Fifty cents! Oi! Oi! I vould be ruined! A neglegee +boosom and turnover cuffs! Vell, vell--I'll wrap it up, so--an' I make +you a present of it for--sixty! An' on Broadvay--" + +Spike. "Come on, Geoff, Aaron's talking in his sleep! Come on, +we'll go on to Mendelbaum's; see--we want shirts, an' ties, an' socks, +an' collars, an'--" + +Salesman. "Vait--vait! Mendelbaum's a grafter--vait! I got th' +best selection of socks an' ties on Ninth Av'noo, an' here's a neglegee +shirt with turnover cuffs--an' only fifty cents. But at Mendelbaum's or +on Broadvay--" + +In this way Mr. Ravenslee became possessed of sundry shirts whose bosoms +blushed in striped and spotted splendour, of vivid-hued ties and of +handkerchiefs with flaming borders. From shop to shop Spike led him and, +having a free hand, bought right royally, commanding that their +purchases be sent around hotfoot to Mulligan's. Thus Spike ordered, and +Mr. Ravenslee dutifully paid, marvelling that so much might be bought +for so little. + +"I guess that's about all the fixings you'll need, Geoff!" said Spike, +as they elbowed their way along the busy avenue. + +"Well," answered Mr. Ravenslee, as he filled his pipe, "it will +certainly take me some time to wear 'em out--especially those shirts!" + +"They sure are dandies, Geoff! Yes, those shirts are all to the +lollipops, but say, you made a miscue gettin' them black shoes," and +here Spike turned to stare down at his companion's newly acquired +footwear. "Why not buy the yellow boys I rustled up for you. They sure +were some shoes!" + +"They were indeed, Spike." + +"Gee, but it must feel good t' be able t' buy whatever you want!" sighed +Spike dreamily. "Some day I mean to have a wad big enough t' choke a +cow--but I wish I had it right now!" + +"What would you do with it?" + +"Do with it! Well, say, first off I'd--I'd buy Hermy them roses--th' +whole lot," and he pointed where, among the pushcarts drawn up against +the curb, was one where roses bloomed, filling the air with their +sweetness. "An' next she should--" + +"Then go and buy 'em, Spike!" and speaking, Mr. Ravenslee thrust a bill +into Spike's hand. + +"Gee--a twenty-spot! Can I, Geoff?" he cried, his blue eyes shining. +"Th' whole lot--on d' level?" + +"On the level." + +Spike started joyfully away, paused, turned, and came back with head +a-droop. + +"I guess it can't be done, Geoff," he sighed. + +"Why not?" + +"Well, y' see, it ain't as it was my own money, really." + +"But it is!" + +"No, it ain't! I haven't earned it, Geoff, an' I ain't a guy as sponges +on his pals, not much I ain't. Take your money, Geoff. When I buy Hermy +anything it's goin' to be bought with money as I've earned." + +So Mr. Ravenslee thrust the bill back into his pocket and thereafter +walked on, frowning and very silent, as one lost in perplexed thought. +Wherefore, after more than one furtive glance at him, Spike addressed +him with a note of diffidence in his voice. + +"You ain't sore with me, are you, Geoff?" + +"Sore with you?" + +"I mean, because I--I didn't take your money?" + +Here Mr. Ravenslee turned to glance down at Spike and clap a hand upon +his shoulder. + +"No," he answered, "I'm not sore with you. And I think--yes, I think +your sister is going to be proud of you one day." + +And now it was Spike's turn to grow thoughtful, while his companion, +noting the flushed brow and the firm set of the boyish lips, frowned no +longer. + +"Hello, there's Tony!" exclaimed Spike as they turned into Forty-second +Street, "over there--behind the pushcart--th' guy with th' peanuts!" And +he pointed where, from amid a throng of vehicles, a gaily painted barrow +emerged, a barrow whereon were peanuts unbaked, baked, and baking as the +shrill small whistle above its stove proclaimed to all and sundry. It +was propelled by a slender, graceful, olive-skinned man, who, beholding +Spike, flashed two rows of brilliant teeth and halted his barrow beside +the curb. + +"How goes it, Tony?" questioned Spike, whereat the young Italian smiled, +and thereafter sighed and shook his head. + +"Da beezeneez-a ver' good," he sighed, "da peanut-a sell-a all-a da +time! But my lil' Pietro he sick, he no da same since his moder die-a, +me no da same--have-a none of da luck--noding--nix!" + +"Hard cheese, Tony!" quoth Spike. "But say, have you seen th' Spider +kickin' around?" + +"No, I ain't! But you tell-a da Signorina--" + +"Sure I will--" + +"My lil' Pietro he love-a da Signorina; me, I love-a her--she so good, +so generosa, ah, yes!" And taking off his hat in one hand, Tony kissed +the other and waved it gracefully in the air. + +"Right-o, Tony!" nodded Spike. "You can let it go at that. An' say--this +is me friend Geoff." + +Tony gripped Mr. Ravenslee's hand and shook it. + +"You one o' da bunch--one o' da boys, hey? Good-a luck." So saying, Tony +nodded, flashed his white teeth again, and seizing the handles of his +barrow, trundled off his peanut oven, whistling soft and shrill. + +"Tony's only a guinney," Spike explained as they walked on again. "But +he's white, Geoff--'n' say, he's a holy terror in a mix-up! Totes one o' +them stiletto knives. I've seen him stab down into a glass full of water +an' never spill a drop, which sure wants some doing." + +Evening was falling, and dismal Tenth Avenue was wrapping itself in +shadow, a shadow made more manifest by small lights that burned dismally +in small and dingy shops, a shadow, this, wherein moving shadows jostled +with lounging shoulder or elbow. As they passed a certain dark entry +where divers of these vague shadows lounged, a long arm was stretched +thence, and a large hand gripped Spike's shoulder. + +"Why--hello, Spider," said he, halting. "What's doin'?" + +"Nawthin' much, Kid--only little M--'say, who's wid you?" + +"Oh, this is a friend o' mine--Geoff, dis is d' Spider!" explained +Spike. + +Visualised in "the Spider" Ravenslee saw a tall, slender youth, very +wide in the shoulder and prodigiously long of arm and leg, and who +looked at him keen-eyed from beneath a wide cap brim, while his square +jaws worked with untiring industry upon a wad of chewing gum. + +"Good evening!" said Ravenslee and held out his hand. The Spider ceased +chewing for a moment, nodded, and turning to Spike, chewed fiercer than +ever. + +"Where youse goin', Kid?" he enquired, masticating the while. + +"What was you goin' to tell me, Spider?" demanded Spike, a note of +sudden anxiety in his voice. + +"Nawthin', Kid." + +"Aw--come off, Spider! What was it?" + +The Spider glanced up at the gloomy sky, glanced down at the dingy +pavement, and finally beckoned Spike aside with a quick back-jerk of the +head, and, stooping close, whispered something in his ear--something +that caused the boy to start away with clenched hands and face of +horror, something that seemed to trouble him beyond speech, for he stood +a moment dumb and staring, then found utterance in a sudden, hoarse cry: + +"No--no! It ain't true--oh, my God!" + +And with the cry, Spike turned sharp about and, springing to a run, +vanished into the shadows. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Ravenslee, turning on the Spider. + +"Matter?" repeated that youth, staring at him under his cap brim again; +"well, say--I guess you'd better ask d' Kid." + +"Where's he gone?" + +"How do I know?" + +"It isn't--his sister, is it?" + +"Miss Hermione? Well, I guess not!" So saying, the Spider, chewing +ferociously, turned and vanished down the dark entry with divers other +shadows. + +For a moment Mr. Ravenslee stood where he was, staring uncertainly after +him; presently however he went on toward Mulligan's, though very slowly, +and with black brows creased in frowning perplexity. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CONCERNING ANKLES, STAIRS, AND NEIGHBOURLINESS + + +It was in no very pleasant humour that Geoffrey Ravenslee began to climb +the many stairs (that much-trodden highway) that led up to his new +abode; he climbed them slowly, frowning in a dark perplexity, and wholly +unconscious of the folk that jostled him or paused to stare after him as +he went. + +But presently, and all at once, he became aware of one who climbed half +a flight above him, and, glancing up, he saw a foot in a somewhat worn +shoe, a shapely foot nevertheless, joined to a slender ankle which +peeped and vanished alternately beneath a neat, well-brushed skirt that +swayed to the vigorous action of the shapely limbs it covered. He was +yet observing the soft, rounded curves of this most feminine back when +he became aware of two facts: one, that she bore a heavy suit case in +her neatly gloved hand; two, that the tress of hair peeping rebellious +beneath the neat hat brim was of a wondrous yellow gold. Instantly he +hastened his steps, and reaching out his hand almost instinctively, +sought to relieve her of her burden. + +"Allow me!" said he. + +She stopped, and turning on the stair above, looked down on him with a +pair of wondering blue eyes; her cheeks glowed, and she was panting a +little. For a long moment they fronted each other thus silently upon +that grimy, narrow stair, she above with gracious head stooped, her dark +eyes questioning and wistful. And looking up into the flushed loveliness +of her face, those eyes deep and soft beneath their long, black lashes, +the tender droop of those vivid lips, beholding all this, he knew her to +be a thousand times more beautiful than any photograph could possibly +portray, wherefore he bared his head, and striving to speak, could find +no words to utter. For a moment longer she hesitated while her clear +eyes searched his face, then the red lips curved in a little wistful +smile. + +"Thank you!" she said, and, yielding him her burden, led the way +up-stairs. "I'm afraid it's rather heavy," she said over her shoulder +after they had climbed another flight. + +"It's quite too heavy for you!" he answered. + +"Oh, but I've carried it often before now." + +"Then you shouldn't!" + +"But I have to!" + +"No," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "you should let your brother +bring it up for you." + +"My brother!" she exclaimed, pausing to look her amazement. And again as +she stood thus poised above him, he took joy to note the warmth of her +rich colouring, the soft, round column of her white throat, the gracious +breadth of hip and shoulder. + +"You know I have a brother?" + +"Oh, yes, Spike--er--that is, Arthur and I are quite--er--ancient +cronies--pals, you know--friends, I mean--" Mr. Ravenslee was actually +stammering. + +"Oh, really?" she said softly; but all at once, becoming aware of the +fixity of his regard, the colour deepened in her cheek, the long lashes +drooped and, turning away, she went on up the stair. + +"It's a long way up yet! Hadn't you better let me take it?" + +"Not for worlds!" he answered. + +"Isn't it getting heavier?" she enquired, as they climbed the next +flight. + +"Decidedly heavier!" + +"Then please," said she, slackening her pace, "please let me take it!" + +"On the contrary," he answered, his gaze on her slender foot and ankle, +"I should like to carry it for you all my--er--ah, that is--I mean--" + +Mr. Ravenslee was stammering again. + +"Yes?" + +He was aware that the shapely foot had faltered in its going. + +"As often as I may, Miss Hermione." + +Hereupon the shapely foot halted altogether, and once again she turned +to look at him in wide-eyed surprise. + +"You know my name?" + +"I learned it from Arthur, and--I shall never forget it!" + +"Why not?" + +"Well, because it is rather uncommon and--very beautiful!" + +"Oh!" said Hermione, and went on up the stair again, yet not before he +had seen the flush was back in her cheek. + +"Are you getting tired yet?" she enquired, without looking round. + +"Not appreciably," he answered, "but if you think I need a rest--" + +"No, no!" she laughed, "we should never get off these frightful stairs!" + +"Even that might have its compensations!" he murmured. + +"And we've been much longer than if you'd let me carry it up myself." + +"But then we've no cause for panting haste, have we?" he suggested. + +"And we have four more flights to climb." + +"So few!" he sighed. + +"You see, I live at the very tip-top." + +"Good!" said he. + +At this she glanced down at him over the sweep of her shoulder. + +"Why 'good'?" she demanded. + +"Because I also live at the tip-top." + +"Do you--oh!" + +"With the excellent Mrs. Trapes." + +"But I thought she had lost her lodger?" + +"She had the--er--extreme good fortune to find a new one to-day." + +"Meaning you?" + +"Meaning me." + +By this time they had reached the topmost landing, where Mr. Ravenslee +set down the suit case almost reluctantly. + +"Thank you!" said Hermione, looking at him with her frank gaze. + +"Heaven send I may earn your thanks again--and very soon," he answered, +lifting the battered hat. + +"You didn't tell me your name!" said she, fumbling in a well-worn little +hand bag for her latchkey. + +"I am called Geoffrey." + +Hermione opened the door and, taking up the suit case, held out her +hand. + +"Good-by, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"For the present!" said he, and though his tone was light there was a +very real humility in his attitude as he stood bareheaded before her. +"For the present!" he repeated. + +"Well--we are very near neighbours," said she, dark lashes a-droop. + +"And neighbourliness is next to godliness--isn't it?" + +"Is it?" + +"Well, I think so, anyway? So, Miss Hermione--not 'good-by.'" + +She glanced swiftly up at him, flushed, and turning about, was gone. But +even so, before her door closed quite, she spoke soft-voiced: +"Good--evening, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +Thereafter, for a space, Mr. Ravenslee stood precisely where he was, +staring hard at the battered hat; yet it is not to be supposed that the +sight of this could possibly have brought the smile to his lips, and +into his eyes a look that surely none had ever seen there before--such +a preposterously shabby, disreputable old hat! Of course not! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +OF CANDIES AND CONFIDENCES + + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Trapes, "so you've come? Good land, Mr. Geoffrey, +there's parcels an' packages been a-coming for you constant ever since +you went out! Whatever have you been a-buying of?" And opening the door +of his small bedroom, she indicated divers packages with a saucepan lid +she happened to be holding. + +"Well," said her lodger, seating himself upon the bed, "if I remember +rightly, there are shirts, and socks, and pajamas, and a few other +oddments of the sort. And here, when I can get it out of my pocket, is a +box of candies. I don't know if you are fond of such things, but most of +the sex feminine are, I believe. Pray take them as a mark of +my--er--humble respect!" + +"Candy!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, turning the gaily bedecked box over and +over, and glaring at it fierce-eyed. "Fer me?" + +"If you will deign acceptance." + +"Candy!" she repeated, elbows a-twitch. "Fer me? Land sakes, Mr. +Geoffrey, I--I--" Here, very abruptly, she turned about and vanished +into the kitchen. + +Mr. Ravenslee, lounging upon his white bed, was taking languid stock of +his purchases when Mrs. Trapes suddenly reappeared, clutching a toasting +fork. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," she said, glaring still, "them candies must ha' cost you +a sight o' money?" + +"True, certain monies were expended, Mrs. Trapes." + +"They must ha' cost you well nigh a dollar-fifty, I reckon?" + +"They did!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, smiling. + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, and vanished again. + +Mr. Ravenslee was sighing over a hideously striped shirt when Mrs. +Trapes was back again, flourishing a very large tablespoon. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "it's nigh forty years since any one bought me +a box o' chocolates! An' now they look so cute all done up in them gold +an' silver wrappings as I don't wanter eat 'em--seems a sin, it do. +But--Mr. Geoffrey I--I'd like to--thank ye--" and lo, she was gone +again! + +Mr. Ravenslee had just pitched the striped shirt out of the window when +behold, Mrs. Trapes was back yet once more, this time grasping a much +battered but more bepolished dish cover. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "I ain't good at thankin' folks, no, I ain't +much on gratitood--never having had much to gratify over--but them +candies is goin' to be consoomed slow an' reverent and in a proper +sperrit o' gratitood. And now if you're ready to eat your supper, your +supper's a-waitin' to be ate!" + +So saying, she led the way into the parlour, where upon a snowy cloth, +in a dish tastefully garnished with fried tomatoes, the English mutton +chop reposed, making the very most of itself; the which Mr. Ravenslee +forthwith proceeded to attack with surprising appetite and gusto. + +"Is it tender?" enquired Mrs. Trapes anxiously. "Heaven pity that +butcher if it ain't! Is it tasty, kind of?" + +"It's delicious," nodded her lodger. "Really, Hell's Kitchen seems to +suit me; I eat and sleep like a new man!" + +"So you ain't lived here long, Mr. Geoffrey?" queried Mrs. Trapes, +eagle-eyed. + +"Not long enough to--er--sigh for pastures new. Don't go, Mrs. Trapes, +I love to hear folks talk; sit down and tell me tales of dead kings +and--er--I mean, converse of our neighbours, will you?" + +"I will so, an' thank ye kindly, Mr. Geoffrey, if you don't mind me +sucking a occasional candy?" + +"Pray do, Mrs. Trapes," he said heartily; whereupon, having fetched her +chocolates, Mrs. Trapes ensconced herself in the easy chair and opening +the box, viewed its contents with glistening eyes. + +"You're an Englishman, ain't you?" she enquired after a while, munching +luxuriously. + +"No, but my mother was born in England." + +"You don't say!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes. "So was I--born in the Old Kent +Road, Mr. Geoffrey. I came over to N' York thirty long years ago as cook +general to Hermy Chesterton's ma. When she went and married again, I +left her an' got married myself to Trapes--a foreman, Mr. Geoffrey, with +a noble 'eart as 'ad wooed me long!" Here Mrs. Trapes opened the candy +box again and, after long and careful deliberation, selected a chocolate +with gentle, toil-worn fingers, and putting it in her mouth, sighed her +approbation. "They sure are good!" she murmured. "But talkin' o' Hermy +Chesterton's ma," she went on after a blissful interval, "I been +wondering where you came to meet that b'y Arthur?" + +"Ah, Mrs. Trapes," sighed Ravenslee, leaning back in his chair and +shaking a rueful head, "you touch on gloomy matters. As the story books +say, 'thereby hangs a tale'--the dismal tale of a miserable wretch whose +appetite was bad, whose sleep was worse, and whose temper was worst of +all--oh, a very wretched wretch indeed!" + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, stopping abruptly in the act of +masticating a large chocolate walnut, "so bad as that, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Worse!" he nodded gloomily. "It is indeed a gloomy tale, a tale dark +and dismal that I love not the telling of, for, Mrs. Trapes, that more +than hopeless wretch stands, or rather sits, before you!" + +"Save us!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, "meanin' yourself?" + +"My unworthy self!" + +"Lord!" she whispered, "what you been a-doin' of?" + +"Wasting a promising life, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"You mean," she questioned in a harsh whisper, "you mean as +you've--killed some one--accidental?" + +"Oh, no, the life was mine own, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey, you give me quite a turn! Y' see, sometimes +folks gets theirselves killed around here--an' it's always +accidental--sure!" and Mrs. Trapes nodded meaningly and went on chewing. +"But say," she demanded, suddenly sharp of eye, "where does Arthur come +in?" + +"Arthur comes in right here, Mrs. Trapes! In fact, Arthur broke into +my--er--life just when things were at their darkest generally. Arthur +found me very depressed and gloomy. Arthur taught me that life might yet +have its uses. Arthur lifted me out of the Slough of Despond. Arthur +brought me--to you! And behold! life is good and perchance shall be even +better if--ah yes, if! So you see, my dear Mrs. Trapes, Arthur has done +much for me, consequently I have much to thank Arthur for. Indeed, I +look upon Arthur--" + +"Shucks!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "that'll be about enough about +Arthur--Arthur, indeed! You oughter know his sister!" Now at this her +lodger started and glanced at her so suddenly, and with eyes so +unexpectedly keen that once again she suspended mastication. + +"Now, in the name of all that's wonderful, Mrs. Trapes, why mention +her?" + +"Why, because she's worth knowin'! Because she's the best, the bravest, +the sweetest thing that ever went in petticoats. She's beautiful inside +and out--mind, I've nursed her in these arms years ago an' I know +she's--oh, well, you ought to meet Hermy!" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I have!" + +"Eh? You have? My lan'!" Mrs. Trapes bolted a caramel in her +astonishment and thereafter stared at Ravenslee with watering eyes. "An' +you to set there an' never tell me!" quoth she, "an' Hermy never told +me--well, well! When did ye meet her? Whereabouts? How?" + +"About half an hour ago! Coming up the stairs! I carried her grip!" + +"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, staring, "well, well!" and she continued +to munch candy and to stare and say "well!" at intervals until arrested +by a new thought. "That b'y!" she exclaimed. "Was Arthur with her?" + +"No," answered Ravenslee, wrinkling his brows, "I lost him on my way +home." + +Mrs. Trapes sighed and shook her head. + +"The sun sure rises and sets for her in that b'y--an' him only her +stepbrother at that!" + +"Her stepbrother?" + +"Yes!" nodded Mrs. Trapes emphatically. "Hermy's ma were a lady, same as +Hermy is; so were her pa, I mean a gentleman, of course. But Hermy's +father died, an' then her ma, poor soul, goes an' marries a good-lookin' +loafer way beneath her, a man as weren't fit to black her shoes, let +alone take 'em off! And Arthur's his father's child. Oh, a good enough +b'y as b'ys go, but wild, now and then, and rough, like his dad." + +"I see!" nodded her hearer, thoughtfully. + +"Now me, though married ten long year, never 'ad no children, so ever +since Hermy's mother died, I've tried to watch over her and help her +as much as I could. She's had a mighty hard struggle, one thing and +another, Mr. Geoffrey, an' now I've known her an' loved her so long it +kind o' seems as if she belonged to me--almost!" + +"She looks very good and--brave!" said Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Good!" cried Mrs. Trapes, and snorted. "I tell you she's jest a angel +o' light, Mr. Geoffrey. If you'd seen her, like I have, goin' from one +poor little sick child to another, kissing their little hot faces, +tellin' 'em stories, payin' for doctor's stuff out of her bit o' +savings, mendin' their clo'es--an' prayin' over 'em when they +died--why--I guess you'd think she was a angel too! One sure thing," +said Mrs. Trapes rising, "there ain't a breathin' man in all this whole +round earth as is fit to go down on 'is knees an' kiss 'er little +foot--not a one! No, sir!" + +"No, I don't think there is!" said Mr. Ravenslee slowly. + +"As for that Bud M'Ginnis," cried Mrs. Trapes, seizing on the coffee-pot +much as if it had been that gentleman's throat, "I'd--I'd like to--bat +him one as would quiet him for keeps--I would so!" and she jerked the +coffee-pot fiercely, much to the detriment of her snowy tablecloth. +"There! now see what I done, but I do get all worked up over that +loafer!" + +"Pray why?" + +"Why?" snorted Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Hasn't he made eyes at her ever +since they was kids together? Hasn't he worried and worried at her, an' +because she won't look at him if she can help it, don't he try to get +back at her through that b'y--" + +"How does he?" + +"How? By puttin' him up to fightin' an' all sorts o' devilment, by +teachin' him to be tough, by gettin' him drunk--" + +"Oh, does he?" + +"Why, bless ye, Bud M'Ginnis can do anything with him!" + +"How so?" + +"Because Arthur jest worships M'Ginnis for his strength and toughness!" + +"I see!" + +"Yes, Arthur thinks there's nobody in the world could lick Bud +M'Ginnis." + +"Hum! May I smoke, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Sure ye may!" she nodded, and began to collect the supper things. "I +tell you what," she exclaimed suddenly, flourishing the fork she had +just taken up, "if somebody would only come along an' thrash M'Ginnis, +thrash him good, it would be a sight better for every one around +here--it would so! M'Ginnis is always makin' trouble for some one or +other, an' there ain't a man big enough or got heart enough to stand up +to him--not even Spider Connolly. Wish I was a man, that's all--just for +an hour! Ah!" Here Mrs. Trapes snorted fiercer than usual, and the jut +of her elbows was deadly. + +"And he gets Arthur drunk, does he!" said Ravenslee, puffing dreamily at +his pipe. + +"Yes!" sighed Mrs. Trapes as she loaded a tray with the supper things. +"Hermy's seen him drunk twice, to my knowing, an' I thought it would +break her 'eart, poor dear! Y' see, Mr. Geoffrey, his father died o' the +drink, an' she's frightened for fear Arthur should go the same road. Oh, +Hermy's life ain't all ice-cream sodas an' lollipops, not much it ain't, +poor, brave, beautiful thing!" + +Saying which, Mrs. Trapes, sighing again, took up her tray; Mr. +Ravenslee, having opened the door for her, closed it again, lighted his +pipe, and sinking into the easy-chair, fell into frowning thought. + +The windows were open, and from the crowded court below rose the shrill +babel of many children's voices, elfin shrieks and cries accompanied by +the jingle of a barrel-organ, very wiry and very much out of tune; but +Ravenslee, deep-plunged in thought, heard nought of it nor heeded the +fact that the pipe, tight-clenched between his strong, white teeth, was +out. For Geoffrey Ravenslee had set himself a problem. + +The barrel-organ ceased its jangle, the children's voices were gradually +hushed, as, one by one, they were called in by hoarse-voiced mothers and +led away to bed; and the gloomy court grew ever gloomier as evening +deepened into night. But still Mr. Ravenslee lounged in the easy-chair, +so motionless that he might have been asleep except for the grim set of +his jaw and the bright, wide-open eyes of him. + +At last, and suddenly, he sat erect, for he had heard a voice whose soft +murmur he recognised even through the closed door. + +"I don't know, Hermy dear," came in Mrs. Trapes' harsh tones, "I'm +afraid he's gone to bed--anyway, I'll see!" Ensued a knocking of bony +knuckles and, opening the door, Ravenslee beheld Mrs. Trapes. Behind her +stood Hermione, and in her eyes he saw again that look of wistful, +anxious fear he had wondered over at the first. + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey," said Mrs. Trapes, "it's eleven o'clock, an' that b'y +ain't in yet. Here's Hermy been out hunting the streets for him and +ain't found him. Consequently she's worriting herself sick over +him--drat 'im!" + +"Out on the streets!" repeated Ravenslee. "Alone?" + +"Yes," answered Hermione, "I had to--try and find him." + +"But alone! And at this hour! Miss Hermione, that was surely +very--er--unwise of you." + +"Yes, you see I didn't know where to look," she sighed. "I've been to +the saloon but he wasn't there--" + +"The saloon? Good Lord!" exclaimed Ravenslee, his placidity quite +forgotten, his face set and stern. "That is no place for you--or any +girl--" + +"I must go to find Arthur," she said softly. + +"No, not there--even for that." + +"Why not?" + +"Think of the--the risks you run! No girl should take such chances." + +"Oh, you mean--that!" said Hermione, meeting his eyes with her frank +glance. "But no one would try to insult me hereabouts; this isn't +Broadway or Fifth Avenue, Mr. Geoffrey!" and she smiled a very sad, +weary little smile. "But I came to ask if you happened to know where +Arthur is or--whom he was with?" + +"Wasn't wid that Bud M'Ginnis, was he?" questioned Mrs. Trapes sharply. + +"No, he wasn't with M'Ginnis," answered Mr. Ravenslee, in frowning +perplexity, "but that's about all I can tell you." + +"Thank you," sighed the girl, "I must go and try again. I know I shall +find him--soon." But, though she tried to speak in a tone of cheerful +confidence, her shapely head drooped rather hopelessly. + +"You mean you are going out on to the--to look for him again?" + +"Why, of course," she answered, "I must find Arthur!" + +"Don't, Hermy, don't--so pale an' tired as you are, don't go again!" +pleaded Mrs. Trapes, her usual sharpness transfigured into a deep and +yearning tenderness; even her voice seemed to lose something of its +harshness. "Don't worry, my sweet, the b'y'll find his way home right +enough, like he did last time." + +"Like--last time!" cried Hermione, and shivering, she leaned against the +wall as if she were faint. "Ah, no, no!" she whispered, "not--like last +time!" and bowing her head she hid her face in her hands. + +Close, close about that quivering form came two motherly arms, and Mrs. +Trapes fell to passionate invective and tender soothing, thus: + +"There, there, my love--my pretty, don't remember that last time! Oh, +drat my fool's tongue for remindin' you, drat it, my dear, my honey! Ah, +don't go breakin' your angel's 'eart along of Arthur, my precious--and +drat him too! That b'y'll come back all right, he will--he will, I know +he will. Oh, if I was only behind 'im with a toasting fork! There, +there, Hermy dear, don't fret, Arthur'll come home all right. My honey, +you're all tuckered out, an' here it's gettin' on to midnight, an' you +to go to Englewood by the early car! Go to bed, dear, an' I'll sit up +for Arthur. Only don't cry, Hermy--" + +"Oh, I'm not crying, dear," said Hermione, lifting her head. "See, I +haven't shed a tear! But I must find Arthur. I couldn't rest or sleep; +I should lie listening for his step. So you see, dear, I must go out and +find him!" + +Hereupon, with swift, dexterous fingers, Hermione straightened the very +neat hat which the embrace of Mrs. Trapes had rendered somewhat askew, +and, turning to the door, came face to face with Mr. Ravenslee, and in +his hand she beheld his battered hat, but she did not notice how +fiercely his powerful fingers gripped it. + +"Miss Hermione," said he, in his soft, indolent voice, and regarding +her beneath languidly drooping lids, "pray accept the hospitality of +my--er--apartment. You will find the easy-chair is very easy, and while +you sit here with Mrs. Trapes, I'll find your brother and bring him here +to you." + +"Thank you," she answered a little shortly because of his lazy tone or +his sleepy eyes, or his general languid air, or all of them together. +"Thank you, but I'm going myself; I must go, I--I couldn't wait--" + +"Oh, but really you must, you know!" + +"Must?" she repeated, looking her surprise. + +"Ab-solutely must!" he answered softly, nodding so sleepily that she +almost expected him to yawn. "You really can't go out again to-night, +you know," he added. Hermione's blue eyes flashed, her delicate brows +knit themselves, and Mr. Ravenslee saw that she was taller than he had +thought. + +"You mean you will--try to stop me?" she demanded. + +"No, I mean that I--will stop you!" + +"But you'd never dare--" + +"I would dare even your anger in so good a cause. Ah, please don't be +angry with me, Miss Hermione, because--" and here his sleepy voice grew +positively slumberous, "you shall not go out into the streets again +to-night!" + +"Ah, an' that's right too, Mr. Geoffrey!" cried Mrs. Trapes. "Hermy +needs some one strong enough to master her now an' then, she is that +wilful, she is so!" + +But now all at once, as he watched, Hermione's eyes filled with great, +slow-gathering tears, her firm-set lips grew soft and quivered +pitifully, and she sank down in the easy-chair, her golden head bowed +upon the green and yellow tablecloth. The battered hat tumbled to the +floor, and striding forward, he had bent and caught one of her listless +hands all in a moment, and thereafter, though it struggled feebly once, +he held it closely prisoned in his own. + +"Oh, don't!" he pleaded, his words coming quick and eager, "don't do +that! Do you think I can't see that you're all overwrought? How can I +let you go tramping out there in the streets again? You couldn't go--you +mustn't go! Stay here with good Mrs. Trapes, I beg of you, and I swear +I'll bring Arthur to you! Only you must promise me to wait here and be +patient, however long I am--you must promise, Hermione!" + +She lifted her heavy head and looked at him through her tears. And +surely, surely in the face that bent above her was none of indolence or +languor. These lips were firm now and close-set, these lazy eyes were +wide and bright, and in them that which brought the warm colour to her +cheeks; but reverence was there also, wherefore she met his look, and +her fingers were not withdrawn from his until she had answered: "I +promise!" + +"That's my wise dearie!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "And good luck to ye, Mr. +Geoffrey, an' when you find that b'y, say as I wish--ah, how I wish I +was back of him with a toasting fork, that's all!" + +Mr. Ravenslee caught up the shabby hat, opened the door, and going out, +closed it softly behind him. + +"Hermy," said Mrs. Trapes, clasping the girl's slender waist in her long +arm and leading her into the brightest of bright little kitchens, "I +like that young feller--who he is I don't know, what he does I don't +know, but what he is I do know, an' that's--a man, my dear! An' he +called you--Hermione! Sounds kind o' pretty the way he says it, don't +you think?" But Hermione didn't answer. + +Meanwhile Mr. Ravenslee, descending the monotonous stairs, paused +suddenly to smile and to clap hand to thigh. + +"A toasting fork!" said he, "a toasting fork is an instrument +possessing three or more sharp points! Ha! Mrs. Trapes is a woman of +singularly apposite ideas." And he smiled a little grimly as he went on +down the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +WHICH RECOUNTS THE END OF AN EPISODE + + +Midway down he beheld two burly policemen who mounted, one behind the +other, their grey helmets, blue coats, and silver buttons seeming to +fill the narrow stairway. + +"Anything wrong?" he enquired, as they drew level. + +"Not wid you dis time, bo!" answered one, blandly contemptuous, and +strode on up the stair, twirling his club in practised hand, his fellow +officer at his heels. + +Thus rebuked, Mr. Ravenslee looked after them with quick-drawn brows +until, remembering his broken hat brim and shabby clothes, he smiled and +went upon his way. Reaching the dingy lower hall he beheld the solitary +gas-jet flare whose feeble light showed five lounging forms, rough +fellows who talked together in hoarse murmurs and with heads close +together. + +He was passing by, when, in one of these deep-throated talkers, he +recognised the long limbs and wide, sloping shoulders of the Spider. Mr. +Ravenslee paused and nodded. + +"Good evening!" said he, but this time kept his hands in his pockets. +The Spider eyed him somewhat askance, shifted his wad of chewing gum +from one cheek to the other, and spoke. + +"'Lo!" said he. + +"Do you know where Spike is?" + +"S'pose I do--then what?" demanded the Spider with a truculent lurch of +his wide shoulders. + +"Then I shall ask you to tell me where I can find him--or better still, +you might show me." + +"Oh, might I?" + +"You might!" + +The feelings of the Spider waxing beyond mere words, he looked at the +speaker, viewed him up and down with a glance of contemptuous hostility, +whereat Ravenslee's whole expression melted into one of lamblike +meekness. + +"Say," quoth the Spider at last, "there's only one thing as I can't +stand about you, an' that's--everything!" + +"Sorry for that," murmured Ravenslee, "because I rather like you, +Spider. I think you could be quite a decent fellow if you tried very +hard! Come, shake your grouch and let's be friends." + +"Say," growled the Spider, "what you're sufferin' from's a hard neck! +You ain't no friend o' mine--not much you ain't, savvy? So crank up an' +get on yer way like a good little feller!" + +"But you see I'm anxious to find Spike because--" + +"Well, say, you keep on bein' anxious, only do it somewheres else. I +don't want youse around where I am, see? So beat it while d' goin's +good!" + +"Why--er--no," said Ravenslee in his laziest tones, "no, I don't think +I'll beat it. I guess I'll stay right here and wait until you are so +kind, so--er--very kind and obliging as to show me where I can find +Spike." And he sighed plaintively as he lounged against the wall behind, +but his eyes were surprisingly bright and quick beneath the shadow of +the battered hat. + +"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, expectorating contemptuously, "hark +to the flossy-boy, fellers! Aw, run away, now!" said he, scowling +suddenly, "run away before ye get slapped on th' wrist!" and, while +divers of his companions laughed hoarsely, he turned a contemptuous back +on Mr. Ravenslee. But even then he was seized in iron fingers that +clutched his shoulder and, in that painful grip, was jerked suddenly +around again to behold a face vicious-eyed, thin-lipped, square-jawed, +fiercely outthrust. Recognising the "fighting-face", the Spider, being +a fighter of a large and varied experience, immediately "covered up", +and fell into that famous crouch of his that had proved the undoing of +so many doughty fighters ere now. Then, like a flash, his long arm shot +out, but in that same instant, Ravenslee, timing the blow to a fraction, +moved slightly, and the Spider's knuckles bruised themselves against the +wall at the precise moment that Ravenslee's open hand flipped lightly on +the side of the Spider's square, lean jaw. + +The Spider drew back, staring from Ravenslee's tall, alert figure to his +bruised knuckles and back again, while his companions stood by in mute +and wide-eyed wonder. + +"Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head in grave reproof, "you were +rather slow that time--very foolish to leave your point uncovered and +offer me your jaw like that, you know!" + +Five pairs of eyes stared at the speaker with a new and suddenly +awakened interest, and beholding in him that lithe assurance of poise, +that indefinable air that bespeaks the trained pugilist and which cannot +be mistaken, elbows were nudged, and heads wagged knowingly. + +Ravenslee's grey eyes were shining, and his pale cheeks tinged with +colour. + +"Ah, Spider," said he, "life is rather worth while after all, isn't it? +Spider, I like you better and better; come, don't be a surly Spider, +shake hands!" + +"T' hell wid youse!" growled the Spider, covering up again, and, though +his face was sulky yet was no trace of contempt there now. + +"I suppose," mused Ravenslee, looking him over with knowledgeful eye, +"yes, I judge, as you are now, you would fight about seven or eight +pounds over your ringside weight. You'd have to give me eighteen pounds! +Spider--I could eat you! Come, shake hands and let's go and fetch +Spike." + +Now, speaking, Ravenslee smiled, with eyes as well as lips; beholding +which, the Spider grew slowly upright, his knotted fists unclenched, +and, staring Ravenslee in the eyes, he reached out slowly and by +degrees and grasped the proffered hand. + +"Say," said he, falling to violent mastication of his eternal chewing +gum, "who'd you have d'mitts on with last--an' when?" + +"Oh, it seems ages ago!" sighed Ravenslee. "But where's Spike?" + +"Say, bo, who wants him, an' whaffor? Spike's me pal, see, so I jest +shore wants ter savvy who wants him an' why?" + +"His sister--" + +"Hully Chee! Why didn't youse say so at first? When Miss Hermione wants +anything she's gotta have it, I guess! Ain't that right, fellers?" + +"You bet," chimed the four. + +"So if she wants d' Kid, I guess I'll jest have to fetch him for her. +Come on, bo! S'long, fellers!" + +Hereupon, having acknowledged the friendly salutes of the four, +Ravenslee followed the Spider out into the court, empty now and silent. + +"Say, bo, where'd you meet up wid Spike, anyway?" enquired the Spider, +as they strode along Tenth Avenue. "You don't belong around here, do +ye?" + +"No. Do you know where he was last night?" + +"You can search me, bo. All I savvy is he was off on some frame-up or +other." + +"Who with?" + +"Well--not wid me." + +"Did you see any one with him besides M'Ginnis at O'Rourke's?" + +"No, there was only them two." + +"Ah, I guessed as much," said Ravenslee, nodding; "he went away with +M'Ginnis--good!" + +"Say, bo," questioned the Spider when they had gone some way in silence, +"I ain't seen you fight anywheres, have I?" + +"No, but I've seen you, Spider, I saw you beat Larry McKinnon at +'Frisco." + +"Which sure was some fight!" nodded the Spider. "Them half-arm jolts of +his sure shook me some; he'd have got me in th' third if I hadn't +clinched." + +"He was a terror at in-fighting." + +"He sure was, bo!" + +"It was your jabbing and footwork won you the fight, Spider, one of the +best I've ever seen--very little clinching and clean breakaways." + +"Larry sure was game all through, yes--right up to the knock-out. A +good, clean fighter. 'N' say, bo, I was real sorry to see him counted +out." + +"It meant a big purse for you, I remember." + +"Oh, sure, I had money to burn. I ain't got much left now, though," said +the Spider ruefully. + +"You came pretty near being a world's champion, Spider." + +"Aw--jest near enough t' miss it, I guess. Talkin' o' champeens, the +greatest of 'em, th' best fightin' man as ever swung a mitt, I reckon +was Joe Madden, as retired years ago. Nobody could ever lick Joe +Madden." + +"Did you know him?" + +"Not me, bo, I wasn't in his class. But I seen him fight years ago." + +"Do you think Spike will ever make a champion?" enquired Ravenslee +suddenly. "I mean if he were given every chance?" + +"Well," answered the Spider slowly, "he sure has the grit; ther ain't +nothin' on two legs he's afraid of except--himself, bo. He's too +high-strung. Nerves is his trouble, I reckon. Why, Chee! When he's in d' +ring he can't be still a minute, can't let himself rest between rounds, +see? He kinder beats himself, I guess." + +"I know what you mean," nodded Ravenslee, "and I'm sure you're right. +By the way, have you ever seen M'Ginnis fight?" + +"I seen him scrap once or twice--he's sure ugly in a rough-house, but in +th' ring--well, I dunno!" + +"Has he a punch?" + +"Bo, he's got a sleep-pill in each mitt if--if he can land his wallop +right! Yes, siree, if Bud can hit a guy where it'll do most good, that +guy's sure goin' to forget his cares an' troubles for a bit. But he's +slow an' heavy, Bud is, though I ain't never seen him mix it in th' +ring, mind." + +"H'm," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "M'Ginnis seems to have it all his +own way around here--why?" + +"Well, because Bud's Bud, an' because Bud's old man is a Tammany +boss--which gives Bud a big pull wid d' police. 'Nuff said, I guess." + +"Quite!" nodded Ravenslee, and walked thereafter deeper in thought than +ever. "Where are you taking me?" he enquired, as they turned a sudden +corner. + +"To d' river!" + +"This is Eleventh Avenue, then?" + +"Yep! Watch out you don't trip on d' railroad tracks." And now the +Spider seemed to have become thoughtful also, and somewhat gloomy, +judging by his face as seen by an occasional feeble light as they +traversed the unlovely thoroughfare. + +"Bo," said he suddenly, "I'm thinkin' there's some guys in this world as +would be better out of it. I'm thinkin' of some guy as got a little girl +into trouble--an' left her to it. Her kid died, an' her folks turned her +out, an' she'd have died too, I guess, if it hadn't been for Miss +Hermione an' old Mother Trapes--ye see, she was all alone, poor little +kid! Now a man as would treat a girl that ways ain't got no right t' +live, I reckon. I should like t' know who that guy was! I should like +t' meet that guy--once!" + +After this the Spider became more gloomy than ever and spoke only in +surly monosyllables. Suddenly he turned off along a narrow, ill-lighted +alleyway that led them between divers small mean houses and tall, dark +warehouses and brought them suddenly out upon the misty foreshore beyond +which the dim and mighty river flowed. On they went, the Spider's +depression growing perceptibly, until at last their feet trod the rough +planking of a narrow causeway which ended in a dark, raft-like structure +moored out in the river. Here was a small and dismal shack from whose +solitary window a feeble ray of light beamed. + +Ravenslee shivered suddenly and stopped to stare about him while his +listless hands changed to tight-clenched fists. + +What was it? + +What was there about this dismal, silent place that seemed to leap at +him all at once from the dimness, he knew not whence? Was it the shack +with its solitary light, or the broad river lapping with soft sighings +and low weeping sounds among the piles below, or was it something in the +altered aspect of the guiding figure that led him forward, slow and ever +slower, as if with dragging feet, and yet with feet that trod so softly? + +"Spider," said he at last, speaking in hushed and breathless manner, +"Spider--where are we?" and speaking he shivered again, even while his +clenched hand wiped the sweat from his brow. The Spider made no answer, +for the feeble light was blotted out by a very solid something which, +approaching softly, resolved itself into a burly, blue-clad form whose +silver buttons and shield showed conspicuous. + +"What's doin'!" demanded a voice. "Who is it?" The voice was hoarse and +authoritative, but the gruff tones were schooled, it seemed, to an +almost unnatural softness. + +"'S all right, Micky," answered the Spider in the same subdued tone, +"it's only me come for d' Kid." + +"Who you got wid you there, Spider?" + +"A pal o' mine an' d' Kid's--he's all right, Mick!" Then to Ravenslee: +"Come on, bo!" Slowly they approached the shack, but, reaching the door, +the Spider hesitated a long moment ere, lifting the latch, he led the +way in. + +A fairly large room was lighted by a lamp that stood upon a rickety +table before which sat a young-faced, white-haired man, very +industriously writing in a small account book; upon the table before +him were a number of articles very neatly arranged, among which +Ravenslee noticed a cheap wrist-watch, a hair-comb, a brooch, and a +small chain purse. He was yet gazing at these and at the white-haired +man, who, having nodded once to the Spider, continued to write so +busily, when he was startled to hear a long-drawn, shuddering sigh. +Turning suddenly sharp about, he stared toward a dark corner where, +among a litter of oars, misshapen bundles, boxes, and odds and ends, was +a small stove, and, crouched above it, his head between his hands, he +beheld Spike. + +With the same instinctive feeling that he must be silent, Ravenslee +approached the boy and touched him on the shoulder. Spike started and +glanced up, though without lifting his head. + +"Your sister is anxious about you. Why are you here?" + +"Don't you know, Geoff? Ain't no one told ye?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I'll show ye!" + +The boy took a hurricane lamp from the floor beside him, and, having +lighted it, brought Ravenslee further into that littered corner where, +among the boxes and bundles and other oddments, lay what seemed to be +two or three oars covered with a worn tarpaulin. + +"Look, Geoff--you remember--only this morning!" Very gently he raised a +corner of the tarpaulin and as he looked down, Ravenslee's breath caught +suddenly. + +A woman's face, very young and very placid-seeming! The long, dark hair +framing the waxen features still oozed drops of water like great, +slow-falling tears; and beholding this pale, still face, Ravenslee knew +why he had shivered and hushed voice and step, and instinctively he +bowed his uncovered head. + +"You remember Maggie Finlay, Geoff, this morning, on the stairs? +She--she kissed me good-by, said she was goin' away; this is what she +meant--the river, Geoff! She's drowned herself, Geoff! Oh, my God!" +and letting fall the tarpaulin, Spike was shaken suddenly by fierce +hysterical sobbing; whereat the man, looking up from his writing, spoke +harsh-voiced. + +"Aw, quit it, Kid, quit it! Here I've just wrote down three rings, +and she's only got one, an' that a cheap fake. Shut up, Kid, you'll +make me drop blots next! Cut it out, it ain't as if she was your +sister--" Hereupon Spike started and lifted a twitching face. + +"My sister!" he repeated, "my sister--whatcher mean? My God, Chip, +Hermy could never--come to--that!" And shivering violently, Spike turned +and stumbled out of the shack. Once outside, Ravenslee set his long arm +about him and felt the lad still trembling violently. + +"Why, Spike!" said he, "buck up, old fellow!" + +"Oh, Geoff, Hermy could never--" + +"No, no--of course not!" So very silently, together and side by side, +they crossed the narrow causeway. + +"Gee, but I'm cold!" said the boy between chattering teeth as they +turned along the wide avenue, "I--I guess it's shook me some, Geoff. +Y' see, I used to go to school with Maggie once--and now--" + +Reaching Mulligan's at last, they beheld numerous groups of whispering +folk who thronged the little court, the doorway, and the hall beyond; +they whispered together upon the stairs and murmured on dim landings. +But as Ravenslee and Spike, making their way through these groups, +mounted upward, they found one landing very silent and deserted, a +landing where was a certain battered door whose dingy panels had been +wetted with the tears of a woman's agony, had felt the yearning, +heartbroken passion of a woman's quivering lips such a very few hours +ago. Remembering which, Geoffrey Ravenslee, turning to look at this +grimy door, beheld it vague and blurred and indistinct as he turned and +climbed that much-trodden stair. + +Upon the top landing they found Mrs. Trapes, who leaned over the rails +to greet them. + +"So you found that b'y, Mr. Geoffrey. Hermy'll be glad. You'll have +heard of poor little Maggie Finlay? Poor lass--poor, lonely lass! 'T was +her father drove her to it, an' now he's had a fit--a stroke, the +doctor's with him now--an' Hermy, of course! She's always around where +trouble is. I guess there won't be much rest for her to-night--long past +midnight now! I'm glad you found that b'y. I said you would. I'll jest +go down and tell Hermy; she'll be glad." + +Spike stood awhile after Mrs. Trapes had gone down-stairs, very silent +and with head a-droop, then, slow and heavily, turned and opened his +door, but paused to speak over his shoulder in a hoarse whisper. + +"Geoff--if ever--any man--made my sister go through what Maggie Finlay +went through--I'd--shoot him dead--by God in Heaven, I would!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +TELLS HOW MR. RAVENSLEE WENT INTO TRADE + + +It was a week later, and Mr. Ravenslee leaned from the window of his +room to observe the view, which consisted chiefly of dingy brick walls +and dingier windows, swaying vistas of clothes in various stages of +dampness, clothes that fluttered from many lines stretched across the +court, from window to window, at different altitudes; for to-day it had +been washing day in Mulligan's; also the evening was warm. + +So Mr. Ravenslee lounged and smoked and gazed upon the many garments, +viewing them with eyes of reverie. Garments, these, of every size and +hue and shape and for either sex, garments that writhed and contorted +themselves in fantastic dances when gently stirred by a small, cool wind +which, wafting across the river from the green New Jersey shore, +breathed faintly of pine woods. + +He was yet in absorbed contemplation of the aerial gambols of these many +garments when to him came Mrs. Trapes, clutching a hot iron. + +"Mr. Geoffrey, what'll you eat for supper?" she demanded. + +"Mrs. Trapes, what do you suppose I'm worthy of?" + +"How about a lovely piece o' liver?" + +"Liver!" he repeated, rubbing a square, smooth-shaven chin. "Hum! liver +sounds a trifle clammy, doesn't it? Clammy and cold, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Cold?" said she, staring, "cold--of course not! It would be nice an' +hot, with thick gravy an' a tater or so. An' as for clammy, who ever +heard o' liver as wasn't? Calves' liver, mind! They can't put me off +with sheep's--no, siree! Skudder's young man tried to once--he did so!" + +"Foolish, foolhardy young man!" murmured Ravenslee. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," sighed Mrs. Trapes, and her elbows were particularly +needle-like, "I jest took that piece o' sheep's liver an' wrapped it +round that young man's face." + +"Unhappy young man!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee. + +"Y' see, Mr. Geoffrey, though a widder an' therefore lorn, I ain't to be +trod on in the matter of livers, or anything else!" + +"I'm sure of it, Mrs. Trapes." + +"But if you don't kind of fancy liver, how about sassiges? Sassiges is +tasty an' filling, an' cheap. What d' ye say to sassiges?" + +"Sausages," answered Mr. Ravenslee, shaking grave head, "sausages demand +such unbounded faith in the--er--sausagee--or should it be sausage-or?" + +"Oh, well--a chop, cut thick an' with a kidney in it--what d' ye say to +a chop, now?" + +"No, a chop in an hour, Mrs. Trapes, or say, two hours, will be most +welcome. Are you very busy?" + +"Washing's all done, but there's a lot o' your shirts waiting to be +ironed--an' me here, lettin' me iron get cold!" + +"Oh, never mind the shirts, Mrs. Trapes! Pray sit down; I need your +counsel and advice." + +"But me iron?" + +"Give it to me--there!" and Mr. Ravenslee deposited it outside on the +fire escape. + +"Now Mrs. Trapes," said he, "first of all, I must find work. 'Man is +born to labour, as the sparks fly upward,' you know." + +"Born to sorrer, you mean!" she corrected. + +"Precisely," he nodded, "work is sorrow, and sorrow is work--at least, +I know a good many people who think so." + +"More fools them!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, folding her arms. + +"My own idea exactly!" he answered, lazily tapping out his pipe on the +window sill. + +"I ain't noticed you sweating none, lately!" quoth Mrs. Trapes +sarcastically. + +"Alas, no, Mrs. Trapes, there being no wherefore to call forth the +aforesaid--er--moisture. Still, 'man is as grass that withereth' unless +he 'goeth forth unto his labour.'" + +"An' quite right too!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "If I had my way I'd make 'em +all work!" + +"That would be rather hard on our legislators and Fifth Avenue parsons, +wouldn't it? Anyway, I want work, that's sure!" + +"Y' mean as your money's all gone?" + +"Very nearly," sighed Mr. Ravenslee with a suitable air of dejection. +And he did it so well that Mrs. Trapes, viewing him askance, frowned, +bit her lip, wriggled her elbows, and finally spoke. + +"Are ye up against it good, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"I am!" + +"Well," said she, frowning down at the vivid-coloured hearthrug, "I got +twenty-five dollars put away as I've pinched and scrinched to save, but +if you want the loan of 'em, you can have 'em an' welcome." + +Her lodger was silent; indeed, he was so long in answering that at last +Mrs. Trapes looked up, to find him regarding her with a very strange +expression. + +"And you will lend me your savings?" he asked her softly. + +"Sure I will!" And she would have risen then and there but that he +stayed her. + +"God bless you for a generous soul!" said he, and laughed rather +queerly; also his grey eyes were a little brighter than usual. "Why +should you trust me so far?" + +"Well, you look honest, I guess. An' then we all help each other in +Mulligan's now an' then, one way or another; we jest have to. There's +Mrs. Bowker, third floor--the tea an' sugar as I've loaned that +woman--an' last week a lovely beef-bone! Well, there! But if you want +the loan of that twenty-five--" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I don't. Things aren't so desperate as that yet. All I +need is a job of some sort." + +"What kind o' job?" + +"I'm not particular." + +"Well--what have you been used to?" + +"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, hitherto I have lived a life of--er--riotous ease!" + +"That means as you ain't worked at all, I guess. Hm!" said Mrs. Trapes, +viewing him with her sharp, hawk's eye, "and yet you ain't got the look +of a confidence man nor yet a swell crook, consequently I take it you +was the only son of your father an' lost all he left you, eh?" + +"Mrs. Trapes, you are a truly wonderful woman!" + +"T' be born the only son of a rich father is a pretty bad disease, I +reckon!" she continued, "yes, siree, it's bad for the child an' worse +for the man; it's bound to be his ruination in the end--like drink! And +talkin' o' drink, I'm glad to see that b'y Arthur's so fond o' you." + +"Oh, why?" + +"Because you don't drink." + +"Well, I don't go to bed in my boots, do I, Mrs. Trapes? But then I +promised you I wouldn't, and, for another thing, I'm not a poet, you +see," said he and yawned lazily. + +"Hermy says she's glad too." + +Mr. Ravenslee cut short his yawn in the middle. + +"Hermione? Did she say so? When?" + +"Ah, I guessed that would wake ye up a bit!" said Mrs. Trapes, noting +his suddenly eager look. "It's a pity you're so poor, ain't it?" + +"Why? What do you mean?" + +"I mean if you had been in a good situation an' making good +money--twenty-five per, say--you might have asked her." + +"Asked her?" repeated Ravenslee, staring, "asked her what?" + +"Why, t' marry you, o' course," nodded Mrs. Trapes. "You love her about +as much as any man can love--which is sometimes a thimbleful an' +sometimes a bit more--but you sure love her as much as a man knows how, +I guess. An' don't try for ter deny it, Mr. Geoffrey, I ain't blind, +leastways I can see a bit out o' one eye sometimes--specially where +Hermy's concerned, I can so. Of course, you ain't worthy of her--but +then no man is, to my mind!" + +"No, I'm not worthy of her, God knows!" said Ravenslee, quite humbly. + +"An' Hermy's goin' to marry a man with money. Her heart's set on +it--firm!" + +"Money!" said Ravenslee, scowling. "She seems anything but mercenary." + +"Mercenary!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "I should say not! I tell ye, she could +be a-rollin' around in a six-thousand-dollar automobile at this very +hour if she was that kind. With her face an' figure! She could so!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean as there's men--rich men, an' married too--as is mad after +her--" + +"Ah!" said Ravenslee, frowning again. + +"You may well say 'ah!'" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Men is all beasts more or +less! Why, I could tell you things--well, there! Hermy ain't no innocent +babe but there's some things better than innocence an' that's a +chin--will-power, Mr. Geoffrey. If a woman's sweet an' strong an' +healthy like Hermy, an' got a chin--nothin' can harm her. But beauty +like hers is a curse to any good woman if she's poor, beauty being a +quick-seller, y' see!" + +"Yes, I see--I know!" said Ravenslee, clenching his hands and frowning +blacker than ever. + +"But," continued Mrs. Trapes, and here she leaned forward to touch him +with an impressive, toil-worn hand, "Hermy Chesterton's jest a angel o' +light an' purity; she always has been an' always will be, but she knows +about as much as a good girl can know. She's seen the worst o' poverty, +an' she's made up her mind, when she marries, to marry a man as is a man +an' can give her all the money she wants. So y' see it ain't no good you +wastin' your time danglin' around after her an' sighin'--now is it?" + +"Why, no, Mrs. Trapes, I think I'll speak to her to-night--" + +"My land! ain't I jest been tryin' to show you as you ain't a fit or +worthy party to speak, an' as you won't have a chance if you do speak, +her 'eart bein' set on wealth? But you can't speak--you won't speak--I +know you won't!" + +"Why not?" + +"First, because t' night she's away at Englewood makin' a dress for Mrs. +Crawley as is very fond of her. An' second, because you ain't the man to +ask a girl to marry him when he ain't got nothin' t' keep her on--you +know you ain't!" + +"Which brings us back to the undoubted fact that I must get a job--at +once." + +"Hm!" said, Mrs. Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful +figure with approval, "what could y' do?" + +"Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you +suggest?" + +"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers' +assistants makes good money--an' I know Mr. Smith wants a butterman." + +"Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter butter about--" + +"Are ye used to butter?" + +"Oh, I've a decided taste for it!" + +"Know much about it?" + +"Certainly--it is a yellowish, fatty substance concocted by human agency +supposedly from the lacteous secretion of the graminivorous quadruped +familiarly known as the common (or garden) cow." + +"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, drawing a deep breath, "you sure do know +something about it. Ever worked in it before?" + +"Only with my teeth." + +"Oh--quit your jollying, Mr. Geoffrey, if you want me t' help you!" + +"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Well, then, there's Jacob Pffeffenfifer wants a young man in his +delicatessen store." + +"Mrs. Trapes, I can slice ham and beef with any one on earth." + +"D' ye understand picklin' and seasonin'?" + +"Ah, there you have me again; I fear I don't." + +"Then you ain't no good to Jacob Pffeffenfifer!" + +"On second thoughts, I'm not wholly sorry," answered Ravenslee gravely. +"You see, a name like that would worry me, it would shake my nerve; I +might cut beef instead of ham, or ham instead of--" + +"Mr. Geoffrey!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows. + +"Sober as a judge, Mrs. Trapes and--by Jupiter!" + +"My land! What is it?" + +"An idea--look!" and Ravenslee pointed down into the yard. + +"Why, it's only Tony!" said Mrs. Trapes, glancing down a vista of +riotous garments. + +"Precisely," answered Ravenslee, rising and stretching his long arms, +"Tony has solved my difficulty; I'll go into the peanut trade." + +"What? Sell peanuts? You?" + +"Why not? 'Man is born--' you know." + +"But--my land! Only dagos and guinneys sells peanuts!" + +"Splendid! I shall be the exception, Mrs. Trapes. Anyway, a peanut man +I'll be!" And catching up his disreputable hat, Ravenslee nodded and +left his landlady staring after him and murmuring "well!" at intervals. +Presently she reached for her iron, stone-cold long since, and stood +awhile clutching it in bony fingers and staring at nothing in +particular. + +"He's sure a man, Hermy my dear!" she said at last, nodding at the +stuffed parrot in the corner. "I've watched him careful and I know. And +there's some things better than money, my dear--ah, much better! So if I +should help to bring you into his arms--man an' wife, my dear--why, I +guess it would be the best thing Anne Angelina Trapes ever done--yes, +mam!" Saying which, she went back to her ironing. + +On the stairs Ravenslee met Spike, who hailed him joyously. + +"Say, Geoff, I'm all alone to-night; come an' eat supper with me--how +about it?" + +"Suppose you have supper at Mrs. Trapes' with me?" + +"No, she gets on me nerves--so come on over, will you?" + +"With pleasure." + +"'N' say, I'm a few chips shy on butter, Geoff--bring in ten cents' +worth, will you?" + +"Right, O comrade, I'll be with you anon. Make boil the kettle against +my coming," and Ravenslee hastened down the stairs. Reaching the court +he met the Italian trundling his barrow toward a certain shed, its usual +nocturnal biding place. + +"How goes it, Tony?" he enquired, shaking hands. + +The Italian nodded and flashed his teeth. "Ver-a good, pal!" he +answered. + +"Tony, where can I get a peanut outfit like yours?" + +"Ha! You go-a in-a da peanut-a beezneez, hey? You want-a push-a de cart, +hey?" + +"That's it, Tony." + +"Ver-a good!" nodded the good-natured Italian. "You come-a long-a me, +pal. I take-a you get-a push-a-de-cart, up-a de street, yes?" Having +very soon locked away his barrow, the loquacious Tony led Ravenslee +along certain streets and into a certain yard, where presently appeared +a stout man with rings in his ears, who smiled and nodded and greeted +them with up-flung finger and the word "altro." Presently Ravenslee +found himself examining a highly ornate barrow fitted with stove and +outfit complete, even unto the whistle, and mounted upon a pair of the +rosiest wheels he had ever seen. Thereafter were more smiles and nods, +accompanied by the ever recurrent "altro", the transfer of certain bills +into the stout man's pocket, and Geoffrey Ravenslee sallied forth into +the street, bound for Mulligan's, with the chattering Tony beside him +and the gaily-painted barrow before him, receiving many friendly hints +as to the pitfalls and intricacies of the peanut trade and hearkening +with unflagging interest to the story of "lil Pietro" and the unbounded +goodness of "da Signorina Hermione." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +ANTAGONISM IS BORN AND WAR DECLARED + + +"Why--hello, Hermy!" exclaimed Spike, pausing in the doorway. "Gee, I +thought you was--were in Englewood." + +Hermione lifted her golden head, stayed her humming sewing-machine, and +smiled at him. + +"And I thought I'd come home and surprise you. Aren't you glad to see +me, boy dear?" + +"Why, sure I am!" he answered, and stooping, kissed a golden curl that +wantoned at her white temple; which done, he sprawled in the easy-chair +and taking a newspaper from his pocket, fell to studying the latest +baseball scores while Hermione, head bent above her work again, glanced +at him now and then rather wistfully. + +"Gee whiz," he exclaimed suddenly, "the Giants put it all over +Cincinnati to-day, Hermy. Y' see, Matty was in th' box, an' he sure +pitched some game!" + +Hermione stopped her machine and looked at him under wrinkling brows. + +"I thought you were hunting through the 'wanted' columns, Arthur?" + +"Why, y' see I ain't--haven't got to the ads yet, Hermy." + +Hermione sighed softly and, resting her round chin in her hands, viewed +him silently awhile until, becoming aware of the steadfast gaze of those +sweet and gentle eyes, Spike shuffled uneasily and changed colour. + +"Arthur," she said softly, "when you promised me to try and find a +situation you meant it, didn't you?" + +"Sure I did!" + +"That was a week ago, dear." + +"But, Hermy, I went after that office-boy's job--you know I did!" + +"Yes, dear, though you got there too late." + +"No, I wasn't late, Hermy, only another guy happened t' get there +first--an' got the job! A kid I could have licked with one hand, too. +One of these mommer's pets in a nobby sack suit--all dolled up in a +clean collar an' a bow-tie an' grey kid gloves. I guess his outfit +helped him a whole lot--an' y' see I'm a few chips shy on clothes, I +guess." + +Hermione looked at her brother's worn garments, shiny at elbow and knee, +and as she looked, her eyes were suddenly suffused. + +"Yes, dear, I--I'm afraid they are--rather shabby," she admitted humbly. +"Your clothes always did seem to wear out so very quickly! And--and it +costs so much to live! And--sometimes I grow--afraid--" + +The smooth, low voice faltered and ended upon a sob. Spike stared in +wide-eyed amaze, for seldom had he seen his sister thus, but now, +beholding the droop of that brave head, seeing how her strong white +hands gripped each other, he tossed the paper aside, and flinging +himself on his knees clasped her in his arms. + +"Don't cry, Hermy!" he pleaded. "Oh, don't cry, I--I can't bear it. You +know I love you best in the world--ah, don't cry, dear. I--I'll hunt up +a job first thing--honest I will--" + +"But your clothes are so very shabby!" she sobbed, "and oh, boy dear, +I have only just enough to--pay our rent this month--so I can't get you +any more--yet, dear!" + +"Hermy," said he brokenly, "oh, Hermy, you make me feel so mean +I--I--One sure thing you're never goin' t' spend your money on clothes +for me any more--? the money you work so hard for! Never any more, +Hermy dear. You've done enough for me, I guess, an' now it's up t' me +to help you and--and--oh, Gee!" Here Spike's voice broke altogether, +whereupon Hermione, quite forgetting her own sorrows and worries, fell +to soothing and comforting him as she had done many and many a time +during his motherless childhood. + +"Say, Hermy," said he at last, his tear-stained cheek pillowed on her +soft, round bosom, "you won't think me a--an awful kid for--for cryin', +will you?" + +"I think I love you all the better, boy dear, and--I'm sure it has done +us both good," and, smiling down at him through her tears, she kissed +him. + +"I'll start in an' rustle up a job right away, Hermy!" said he, rising +and nodding grimly. + +"Oh, boy," said she, looking up at him fondly, "I shall be so proud of +you. It wouldn't matter what it was, or how little you got at first, so +long as it was decent and honourable. And I'm sure you'll get on--Mr. +Geoffrey thinks so too." + +"Does he? I'm glad o' that. Say, how d'ye like Geoff?" + +"Oh--well, I've only seen him two or three times," said Hermione, +folding away her work preparatory to cooking supper. + +"Is that all?" said Spike, smoothing out the paper and scowling at the +long columns headed "Help Wanted." + +"Ye-es, I think so." + +"But you an' him 's always meetin' on the stairs, ain't--aren't you?" + +"You should say 'he and you', dear." + +"Well--but aren't you?" + +"We have met--once or twice." + +"D'ye like him?" + +"Well, he's so very--different! And rather lazy! And awfully sleepy! And +yet I don't think he's sleepy really, somehow." + +"Sleepy?" exclaimed Spike. "Well, I guess not! Lazy I dunno, but he +sure is all to the wide-awake-o. When he looks sleepiest, I guess he's +widest-awakest. And he ain't a--isn't a bad looker, is he?" + +"He has nice eyes!" Hermione admitted. + +"Oh, I don't mean his eyes!" quoth Spike disgustedly. "I mean his arms +an' legs an' shoulders." + +"They are nice and wide!" nodded Hermione. + +"I should like t' see Geoff in th' ring. He'd strip big!" + +"Oh, really," said Hermione, taking a very large apron from the table +drawer. "Boy, dear, I do wish you weren't always thinking of fighting." + +"All right, Hermy dear. But there ain't no flies on Geoff--'n' say, I +want yer to like him 'cause I kinder think he's all to the cream-puffs +an'--" + +"Arthur!" cried Hermione, lifting an admonishing finger. + +"I'm sorry; my tongue kinder slipped, Hermy. But I have been trying t' +keep tabs on me talk, honest I have." + +"Yes, dear. You haven't been quite so frightful lately." + +"Y' see, Hermy, you're different; you went to a swell school an'--" + +"And you never did--I know, dear. But oh, Arthur, I did the best I +could." + +"And a lot better than I deserved," said he, reaching out to pat her +hand caressingly. "When I get a good job, I'll stay in nights and study +hard like you want me to--I sure will." + +"Yes, dear, and you'll soon be heaps cleverer than I am," said she, +stooping to kiss his curly head as she tied the apron about her shapely +hips; and then, giving him a smiling nod, she vanished into the kitchen, +while Spike laboured through the long columns headed "Help Wanted." And +presently, as she moved light-footed to and fro in the kitchen, he heard +her singing softly to herself, an old, old song of other days that had +often been his lullaby when he was a small, motherless armful of +sleepiness hushed in her young, protecting clasp. + +"Arthur!" she called. + +"Hello!" he answered. + +"Are you hungry?" + +"You bet I am!" + +A long pause, whereafter ensued the following conversation between +kitchen and parlour: + +Hermione. "Boy dear!" + +Spike. "Hello!" + +Hermione. "Be a dear and lay the cloth for me!" + +Spike. "Right-o!" + +A longer pause, during which Spike rises and takes cloth from sideboard +drawer. + +Hermione. "Arthur!" + +Spike. "Yes?" + +Hermione. "Where did you meet him?" + +Spike (starting). "Who?" + +Hermione. "Mr. Geoffrey. How did you happen to meet each other?" + +Another pause, while Spike stands frowning in perplexed thought. + +Spike. "Where did you say the cloth was?" + +Hermione. "In the sideboard drawer. How long have you known +him?" + +Spike (beginning to lay the cloth feverishly). "Oh, a goodish +time. Say, Hermy, he sure likes your name a whole lot!" + +Hermione. "Oh!" (A very small pause.) "Likes my name, does he?" + +Spike. "He sure does. He told me so." + +Hermione. "Oh!" (Another small pause.) "Just what did he say, +boy dear?" + +Spike. "He said it was Greek an' very beautiful, an' then I said +it kind of fitted you because you were aces up on the face an' figure +question." + +A rush of petticoats, and enter Hermione, flushed and laughing. + +"You dear boy!" she cried, "for that you shall be kissed!" which he was +forthwith; after which she turned to the mirror to smooth back a +shining tress of hair--that same rebellious curl that glistened above +her fine, black eyebrow. + +"Where did you say you first met him--Mr. Geoffrey?" she enquired +suddenly, still busied with the rebellious curl. Spike started, and +glanced uneasily at her shapely back. + +"Say, Hermy," said he, a little huskily, "have you got anything for +supper?" + +"Not much, dear, I'm afraid." + +"That's a pity!" + +"Why?" + +"Oh, because I asked him in to supper." + +"You asked Mr. Geoffrey--here?" she gasped. + +"Surest thing you know. Y' see, I thought you was staying over at +Englewood." + +"Oh, Arthur!" she sighed. "And there are only two wretched little chops! +And not a bit of butter! And the rent's due to-morrow--I can't spare a +cent--and me in this shabby old gown! and you broke the best teapot." + +"Sounds kind of gay an' festive!" sighed Spike ruefully. "But don't +worry about the eats, dear. Geoff won't mind, an' he'll never notice +your old gown--" + +"He seems to notice a great deal," said Hermione doubtfully as she +hastily untied the big apron, "and besides--oh, gracious goodness!" +she cried, as a knock sounded at the front door, "you must let him in, +Arthur--and don't let him know I'm changing my gown!" Saying which, she +vanished into her bedroom while Spike hastened to the door. + +"Why--hello, Tony!" he exclaimed, "what's wrong now?" + +"My lil Pietro," cried the Italian excitedly, "he no sleep--he burn-a +burn-a all-a da time,--all-a da time cry! You tell-a you sis--she come-a +like-a da las' time den he no cry-a--" But here Tony broke off to +flourish his hat and bow gracefully as he caught sight of Hermione +herself. "Ah, Signorina!" he cried, "my lil Pietro he seeck. You +please-a come see my lil Pietro? He flush-a he cry--he all-a da fire! he +burn-a, burn-a, like-a da fire! You so good, so generosa--you come see +my lil Pietro?" + +"Why, of course I will!" said Hermione in her calm, soft voice, "poor +little mite--is he feverish?" + +"Si, si Signorina!" answered the anxious young father, "he burn-a, +burn-a all-a da time!" + +"Reach me the aconite, boy dear; yes, that's it." + +"But what about supper, Hermy?" queried Spike wistfully. + +"Oh, well--finish laying the table; I'll be back as soon as ever I can, +dear." + +"Oh, Gee!" sighed Spike, as their footsteps died away down the stair, +"she sure is keen on knowing how I met Geoff! And if she ever finds +out--" Spike cowered down into a chair and clasping his head between his +hands sat thus a long while, staring moodily at the floor, striving for +a way out of the difficulty. He was yet wrestling with this knotty +problem when he heard muffled knocks at the front door, which, being +opened, disclosed the object of his thoughts. + +"Why, Geoff," he cried gladly, "I thought you wasn't coming. Say, what +you got there?" he enquired, for Ravenslee's arms were filled with +sundry packages and parcels. + +"Come and see!" said Ravenslee mysteriously. "Catch this one before I +drop it!" + +"Why--hello," said Spike, sniffing at the package in question as he led +the way into the parlour, "it smells good! It sniffs like--Holy Gee, +it's a roast turkey! And--oh, say, Geoff--she's a beaut!" + +"Precisely what Mr. Pffeffenfifer assured me," said Ravenslee, +depositing his other burdens on the table. "Mr. Pffeffenfifer is +a man educated in eats, a food fancier, an artist of the appetite! +Mr. Pffeffenfifer is fat and soulful! Mr. Pffeffenfifer nearly wept +tears over the virtues of that bird--pledged his mortal soul for its +tenderness, vowed by all the gods it had breast enough for twins! Mr. +Pffeffenfifer seemed so passionately attached to that bird that I feared +he meant to keep it to gloat over in selfish secrecy. But no--base coin +seduced him, did the trick and--here it is. Also we have a loaf!" and +from beneath one arm Ravenslee dropped a package that resolved itself +into a Vienna roll. "Also, ham--" + +"Hey, Geoff," said Spike in awe-struck tones, "are all these eats?" + +"Certainly. I should have brought more if I could have carried 'em." + +"More?" + +"Most decidedly. When I buy eats, my lad, I buy everything in sight that +looks worth while--if Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells. Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells +in such a soulfully seductive way that eats acquire virtues above and +beyond their own base selves. Mr. Pffeffenfifer can infuse soul into a +sausage. Behold now, eats the most alluring. See, what's this! Ah, yes, +here we have, item: Salmi, redolent of garlic! Here again a head cheese, +succulent and savoury; here's ham, most ravishingly pink--and a +Camembert cheese." + +"But, Jiminy Christmas--you bought such a lot of each. Who's goin' t' +eat all these?" + +"We, of course!" + +"But we can't eat 'em all!" sighed Spike. + +"Can't we?" said Ravenslee, beginning to view the quantity of the +numerous viands with dubious eyes. "They do seem rather a lot now I see +'em all together. But I'm ravenous, and if we can't manage 'em, we'll +find some one who can." + +"Y' see, Geoff, I shan't be able t' eat any o' the rest when I'm through +with the turk'!" sighed Spike, a little reproachfully. "My, but I'm +hungry! Strange how hungry cold turkey makes a guy!" + +"Why, then," said Ravenslee, pitching his hat into a corner, "sit down, +comrade, and 'let mirth with unconfin_ed_ wing'--" Ravenslee yawned. + +"I guess we'd better wait a bit, Geoff." + +"What for?" + +"Hermy." + +"Is she--do you mean she's back?" enquired Ravenslee, sitting up. + +"Yes, she didn't stay at Englewood; she's down-stairs, doctoring Tony's +kid." + +"But what will she think of all these confounded messes?" + +"Messes!" cried Spike indignantly. "Cheese it, Geoff--look at that +turk'!" + +"But--do you think she'll--mind?" enquired Ravenslee uneasily. + +"Mind?" said Spike, staring. "Not on your life--why should she? Besides, +it's kind o' lucky you happened to blow in with this free lunch; she's a +bit shy on the dollar question this month--an' Mulligan comes t'morrow. +An' oh, say, Geoff--she's dead set on findin' out how I met you an'--an' +where." + +"Very naturally!" murmured Ravenslee. + +"An' we must tell her something--but what?" + +"Spike, you've forgotten the mustard! And as for--er--lying to your +sister, let our motto be 'sufficient unto the day.' Our present need +is mustard, Spike." + +"Say, this sure is goin' t' be some supper, Geoff!" said Spike, setting +on the mustard and gazing at the array of edibles with shining eyes. +"Gee, I could eat cold turkey all night!" + +"Have we everything ready, Spike?" + +"Except butter, Geoff." + +"Ha! the one thing I forgot, of course! Cut off and get some like the +good fellow you are!" and Ravenslee flicked a bill into Spike's hand, +who, seizing his cap, promptly vanished. Being alone, Ravenslee crossed +to the sideboard, and taking thence a certain photograph, seated himself +in the easy-chair and fell to studying it with deep and grave attention. +And sitting thus, he let fancy run riot--and fancy was singularly +pleasing to judge by the glow in his eyes and the tender smile that +curved his lip. + +He was lost deep within his dreams when he was aware of a loud knock +upon the outer door which Spike had left unlatched and, replacing the +photograph, he rose. + +"Come in!" said he. A heavy step sounded in the little hall, the door +was pushed open, and a man entered. He was a young man, big and +broad-shouldered, and Ravenslee's keen eyes were quick to heed the +length and ponderous carriage of the arms, the girth of chest, and firm, +heavy poise of the feet; lastly he looked at the face, aggressively +handsome with its dominating nose and chin, and blue eyes shaded by +thick lashes, that looked out beneath heavy brows--a comely-seeming face +from the dark, close-cropped hair to the deep cleft in the strong, +fleshy chin. + +But now, beneath Ravenslee's persistent regard, the full-curved, shapely +lips grew slowly into a cruel, down-trending line, the nostrils +expanded, while the blue eyes narrowed to shining slits beneath +quick-scowling, black brows. For a long moment the two men stared at +each other, eye to eye, then, in a hoarse, assertive tone the newcomer +spoke. + +"What you doin' here? Who are ye?" + +Mr. Ravenslee sat down and began to fill his pipe. + +"Where's d' Kid?" + +Mr. Ravenslee brushed stray grains of tobacco from his knee with +elaborate care. + +"Hey, you! Where's Spike--'n' what you doin' here, anyway?" + +Mr. Ravenslee glanced up casually. "And pray, who the devil may you be +pleased to be?" he enquired. + +"Me name's M'Ginnis!" + +"Oh, indeed?" + +"Yes--indeed! Bud M'Ginnis--Is that good 'nuff for ye?" + +"Well, since you ask," said Ravenslee, shaking languid head, "I should +scarcely class you as a 'bud' myself. No--I should say you were perhaps +just a trifle--er--overblown. But have it your own way!" and Mr. +Ravenslee smiled engagingly. + +"Where's Spike?" demanded M'Ginnis, his tone a little gruffer, "and +say--you can cut out the comedy, see? Nix on the funny business." + +"You are a pessimist, I presume, Mr. Flowers?" + +"Where's d' Kid? Speak up now--where is he?" + +"Also, your conversation grows a little monotonous, Mr. Flowers." + +M'Ginnis stared, then shot out his big chin viciously. + +"What you doin' in Hermy's flat, eh?" + +Mr. Ravenslee's brows wrinkled slightly, but his soft voice grew softer, +as, pausing in the act of lighting his pipe, he answered: "On the whole +I think you are a rather--er--unpleasant young man, so suppose +you--er--go--" + +"What? Go? Are ye tryin' t' tell me t' go?" + +"I'm suggesting that you--er--crank up the machine, Mr. Flowers, and +beat it while the going's good!" + +M'Ginnis clenched his fist and took a threatening step toward Ravenslee, +then checked himself and stood breathing heavily. + +"May I further suggest," said Ravenslee in his pleasantest voice, "that +you look in again--say next Thursday fortnight, Mr. Flowers?" + +"T' hell with you--me name's M'Ginnis." + +"Of course you might leave a message, Mr. Flowers--" + +"Now, see here, you!" said M'Ginnis, his words coming thick with +passion. "I wanter know, first, where Spike is. And then I wanter know +who you are. And then I wanter know what you're after in Hermy +Chesterton's flat--and you're sure goin' t' tell me!" + +"Am I?" + +"You sure are!" + +Mr. Ravenslee opened the matchbox. "Seems a pity to shake a confidence +so sublime," he sighed. "And yet--" + +"An' see here again! I've known Hermy since we was kids, an' I don't +allow no man t' come stamping around here--see? So you're goin' t' quit, +an' you're goin' t' quit right now!" + +"Do I look like a quitter, Mr. Flowers?" + +Now beholding the speaker's lazy assurance of pose, the contemptuous +indifference of his general air, M'Ginnis stood speechless a moment, his +clenched fists quivering, while, above the loosely-tied scarf, his +powerful neck seemed to swell and show knotted cords that writhed and +twisted, and when at last he spoke, his words came in a panting rush. + +"This is Hermy's flat, an' I guess--you think you're safe here--but you +ain't! I'm thinkin' out which'll do th' least harm to her furniture--to +lick ye here or drag you out on to the landin' first!" + +Mr. Ravenslee lounged lower in the armchair and yawned behind the box of +matches. And in that moment, like a maddened animal, M'Ginnis leapt upon +him and, striking no blow, seized and shook Ravenslee in powerful, +frantic hands, while from between his lips, curled back from big, white +teeth, came a continuous, vicious, hissing sound. + +"I'll wake ye up!" he panted. "Come out--come out, I say--oh, I'll wake +ye up when I get ye outside, I guess. Come out! What you doin' in +Hermy's flat? By God! I'll choke ye till you tell me!" and his hands +came upon Ravenslee's throat--came to be met there by two other hands +that, closing upon his wrists, wrenched and twisted viciously in +opposite directions and, loosing his hold, M'Ginnis fell back, staring +down at bruised and lacerated skin where oozed a few slow drops of +blood. + +"And now," said Ravenslee, rising, "after you, Mr. Flowers! Let us by +all means step outside, where we will each earnestly endeavour to pitch +the other down-stairs--personally, I shall do my very damnedest, for +really I don't--no, I do not like you, Mr. Flowers; you need some one +to tread on you a little. Step outside and let _me_ try." + +While M'Ginnis stared from his swelling, bloody wrists to Ravenslee's +face--a face quite as fierce and determined as his own--steps were heard +and Spike's voice called: + +"Hermy come in yet, Geoff?" + +"Not yet--but our friend Mr. Flowers has dropped in--socially, I fancy." + +"Mr. Who?" enquired Spike at the door, but beholding M'Ginnis's angry +face, he paused there, staring aghast. "Why--hello, Bud!" said he +nervously. "What's wrong?" + +"Nothin' much--yet, Kid, only it's kinder lucky for this guy as you +happened in. Who is he? What's he doin' here?" + +"He's only a friend o' mine, Bud, an' he's all right, 'n' say--" + +"Tell him t' beat it." + +"But y'see, Bud--" + +"Tell him as we don't want his kind around here or--" + +"Spike, did you bring in the butter?" enquired Ravenslee, serenely +unconscious of M'Ginnis. + +"Yes, here it is, Geoff--but say--" + +"It doesn't feel much," said Ravenslee, weighing the package in his +hand. + +"It's half a pound. But say, here's Bud; he says you're to--" + +"My, Spike, I'll trouble you for the butter-dish--thanks!" and turning +away, Ravenslee busied himself at the table, whistling softly the while. + +"But, Geoff, this is Bud!" cried the lad, glancing from one to the other +in an agony of suspense. "Oh, don' ye know dis is Bud M'Ginnis?" + +"Ah, still here, is he?" said Ravenslee, without looking round. + +"See here, Kid," growled M'Ginnis, "you tell your--friend t' clear +out an' t' do it real quick, see? You tell him if he ain't out in two +minutes, I'll run him out meself--" + +"Spike, this butter is nearly oil." + +"Oh, Geoff," groaned the boy, "you've got t' go--here's Bud--" + +"Why, then, Spike, tell him to--er--chase himself; I'm busy!" Came the +sound of a chair set roughly aside and a shrill cry from Spike: "My God, +Bud--don't! Look out, Geoff!" + +But, as M'Ginnis came, Ravenslee turned swiftly, ducked the expected +blow, and swinging his fist up beneath his assailant's extended arm, +smote him hard and true upon the elbow; and Spike, pale and wide of eye, +saw that arm fall and dangle helplessly at M'Ginnis' side, while his +face was contorted with sharp agony. + +"My God, Geoff! What you done t' him?" + +"Pins and needles, Spike--that's all. A hoary old trick, but useful now +and then. Mr. Flowers isn't so very wide-awake as folks seem to think. +You see, it wouldn't have done to knock him out here; he might have +upset the table." + +"Knock out Bud!" cried Spike, aghast. "But there ain't nobody can lick +Bud M'Ginnis!" + +"Oh, I don't know, Spike. Anyway, we'll see what can be done--outside! +After you, Mr. Flowers! Pray go first, Mr. Flowers! A fellow who would +attack a man sitting down isn't to be trusted behind one--so, after you, +Mr. Flowers. Oh, we'll wait until you can use your arm, but we'll wait +outside. Miss Chesterton's flat is no place for your sort, so--out with +you, and quick--d'ye hear?" + +M'Ginnis opened his lips to retort, but passion choked him, and snarling +unintelligibly, he turned and strode out upon the landing. As they stood +fronting each other, very silent and grim and menacing, running feet +were heard ascending the stairs, and a slender boy appeared, who, +perceiving M'Ginnis, panted out: + +"Say, Bud, O'Rourke's been pinched by d' cops! He wants ye t' skin over +an' fix it up--" + +"O'Rourke pinched?" growled M'Ginnis. "Say you, Larry, what yer givin' +me?" + +"S' right, Bud, dere's a noo captain on d' precinct, an' he's pinched +O'Rourke. 'N' say, Bud, d' game's all balled up; d' push is all up in d' +air. 'N' say, O'Rourke's crazy an' can't do nothin', so he sent me t' +fetch ye. You're d' only one as can fix d' police, so come on right now +before d' whole show's busted up." During this breathless speech the +narrowed eyes of M'Ginnis never left Ravenslee's pale, placid face, and +in the persistence of this ferocious glare was something animal-like. + +"Say, you--Mr. Butt-in!" said he, "I ain't through wid you--not by a +whole lot I ain't. Oh, I'll get ye yet, an' I'll get ye good! There +won't be nothin' left for nobody else when I'm through wid you. Savvy +this--there ain't nobody ever goin' t' queer me with Hermy Chesterton. +Oh, I'll get ye good, an' I'll get ye--soon!" + +So saying, Bud M'Ginnis turned, and went slowly and unwillingly down the +stair. + +"Gee, but I'm glad he's gone!" said Spike, as he closed the door. "Gee, +but I'm--glad!" and he drew a deep breath. + +"So am I!" said Ravenslee, sinking into the armchair, "but there's +always to-morrow, isn't there?" + +But instead of replying, Spike stood to stare on Ravenslee with eyes of +admiring awe. + +"I guess you know how t' handle y' self, Geoff," said he. + +"I used to think I could, once upon a time," answered Ravenslee, +stooping to recover his pipe. + +"That sure was some wallop you handed him!" + +"'T was fair, I thank you, comrade!" + +"I shall be awful sorry to have you leave me, Geoff." + +"Leave you?" + +"Well, you heard what he said?" + +"Yes, I heard." + +"An' you know what he meant?" + +"I can guess." + +"You'd best skin out o' Mulligan's first thing to-morrow." + +"What for?" + +"Bud says you must, an' he'll make you, worse luck!" + +"Oh, how?" + +"Well," said Spike in low, troubled tones, "he'll sic d' gang on to you +if you don't make your get-away while you can--" + +"By God!" exclaimed Ravenslee, his eyes suddenly very bright, "I never +thought of that!" + +"Yes, so I'm thinking you'd best skin off t'night, Geoff!" sighed the +lad gloomily, whereupon Ravenslee, pocketing his pipe, clapped him +joyously upon the shoulder. + +"Banish that dejection, my comrade," said he, "for now, my Arthur-Spike, +'now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer in this brutal +Bud' and--" + +"What yer mean, Geoff?" + +"I mean that life's erstwhile dull monotony is like to be forgotten +quite in the vigorous, exhilarating air of Hell's Kitchen. Hell's +Kitchen suits me admirably, consequently in Hell's Kitchen I'll stay." + +"Stay? Geoff, are ye crazy? What about Bud M'Ginnis?" + +"M'Ginnis, my Arthur? Oh, Bud M'Ginnis may be--hush! Straighten the +cloth yonder, Spike; she's coming at last, by Heaven!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +CONTAINING SOME DESCRIPTION OF A SUPPER PARTY + + +"Oh!" said Hermione, as she caught sight of Ravenslee's tall figure, +"you've come then, Mr. Geoffrey? I've been hoping and praying you +wouldn't! I mean--" she added hastily, in answer to his look, "I mean +I have only two miserable little chops for supper." + +"S' all right, Hermy!" cried Spike. "I told you not to worry about the +eats. Look what's here--stand out o' the light, Geoff, so she can see +the table!" + +"Why--why--what's all this?" she exclaimed, staring at the numerous +well-filled dishes with blue eyes very wide. "Oh, goodness +gracious--me!" and she turned to look at Mr. Ravenslee, who, meeting +that wondering glance, actually found himself stammering again. + +"The fact is, Miss Hermione--er--I say the fact is we--Arthur and I--are +giving a little supper to-night in honour of--of--er--my birthday." + +"You bet we are, Hermy!" added Spike. "Will you pipe the turk'?" + +"We have been waiting for you," continued Ravenslee, placing a chair for +her, "you see--er--you are to be our guest of honour--if you will?" + +"Sure you are!" nodded Spike, "and I'm head-waiter, eater-in-chief t' +the turk' while she lasts, an' chief mourner when she's gone--so now +I'll go an' make th' tea, only don't begin without me--a fair start an' +all together, see?" and he vanished into the kitchen. + +"But--a whole turkey!" said Hermione, viewing it with feminine, +knowledgeful eyes, "and then all this ham and tongue and--Mr. Geoffrey, +how extravagant of you!" And she shook her shapely head at him +reprovingly but with a smile curving her red lips; and lo! there was the +shining curl above her eyebrow again, more wantonly alluring than usual. +"Whatever made you buy so much?" + +"Mr. Pffeffenfifer!" answered Ravenslee, staring at the radiant curl, +whereupon she, becoming aware of it, would have sent it into immediate +retirement among its many fellows but that he stayed her humbly. + +"Please don't!" he said. + +"But it--tickles!" + +"Well, let it!" + +"But--why should I?" + +"For--Arthur's sake." + +"Arthur's!" she laughed. "Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, as if he would ever notice!" + +"Well, then, for the--er--turkey's sake!" + +"The turkey!" she laughed. "I'm afraid I'm dreadfully untidy to sit down +at such a luxurious feast." + +"Are you?" + +"Well--am I not? Look at this poor old gown!" + +"I'm afraid I didn't notice your--er--gown." + +"What did I tell you, Hermy?" said Spike, entering with the teapot. +"Geoff ain't--I mean, isn't--that kind o' guy--I mean mutt--no, I mean +feller. Y' see, Geoff, a girl always thinks a feller's got his lamps--I +mean eyes--on their rags--clo'es, I mean. 'S' funny, ain't it? Gee, but +I'm hungry!" + +"So am I!" said Hermione. + +"So am I!" said Ravenslee. + +"Why, then," quoth Spike, "I'll tell you what--let's all sit down and +eat! I guess I'm full o' brilliant ideas t'night, but this ain't no time +for talk--not with that turkey starin' us in the face, it ain't--isn't, +I mean. So quit chewin' d' rag an' let's chew d' turk' instead--an' Gee, +but that's some brilliant too, I guess!" + +So down they sat, and while Hermione presided over the cups and saucers, +Ravenslee carved. + +"Light or dark meat, Miss Hermione?" he enquired. + +"Herm; likes th' light, but a drumstick for mine--an' please don't +forget th' stuffin', Geoff!" + +"Tea, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Thanks!" he answered, pausing to watch the curve of her shapely neck as +she bent to pour the tea, and to note how her white hand grasped the +battered teapot, little finger delicately poised. + +"Say, Geoff--get busy!" said Spike wistfully. "I know the teapot's a bit +off on looks, but I broke the best one and--" + +"I didn't even notice the teapot, Spike," said Ravenslee, meeting +Hermione's quick, upward glance. + +"Oh, cheese it, Geoff, here you've sat with your fork in th' turk' an' +your knife in th' air, starin' at that teapot a whole minute." + +"No, Spike, no! I was only thinking that tea never tastes quite right +unless poured out by a woman's hand--and the fairer the hand the better +the tea!" + +"Which means--just what, Mr. Geoffrey?" laughed Hermione. + +"Why, that Spike and I are about to drink the most delicious tea in the +world, of course." + +"I'd rather be eatin' that turk' when you've sawed me off a leg," sighed +Spike. "I say--when you have!" + +"Ah, to be sure!" said Ravenslee, turning his attention to his carving +again, while Hermione bowed her golden head above the teacups. + +"Gee, but she cuts tender!" quoth Spike; "that bird sure has the Indian +sign on me!" + +"Sugar, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Two lumps, please." + +"Milk, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Thank you!" + +"Geoff," said Spike wearily, "I cracked that milk jug last night, but +you don't have to sit starin' at it that way, an' me dyin' of hunger by +inches!" + +"My humble apologies!" said Ravenslee, wresting his gaze from a certain +curl and fixing it upon the turkey again. "I'm a little--er--distracted +to-night, it seems." + +"Oh, Gee!" said Spike in a hopeless tone, "now Hermy's gone an' filled +my cup with milk." + +"Why, boy dear, so I have!" she confessed, with a rueful laugh, and her +cheeks were very pink as she rectified her mistake. + +"Are you distracted too, then?" demanded Spike. + +"No, I--I don't think so--no, no--of course I'm not! I--I was +just--thinking, that's all!" + +"Not about tea, I reckon! Say, what's gettin' you two, anyway?" + +"Arthur," said she serenely, as she passed his tea, "please fetch some +more hot water." + +Spike sighed, rose, and taking the jug, went upon his mission. + +"And how do you like Mulligan's, Mr. Geoffrey?" enquired Hermione, +regarding him with her calm, level eyes. + +"Very much," he answered, "I like it better and better. I think--no, I'm +sure I would rather be in Mulligan's than anywhere else in the world." + +"Oh! Why?" + +Down went carving knife and fork, and leaning toward her he answered: +"Because in Mulligan's, among many other wonders, I have found something +more beautiful and far more wonderful than I ever dreamed of finding." + +"In Mulligan's?" she asked, looking her amazement. + +"In Mulligan's," he answered gravely. Now here, all at once, her glance +wavered and sank before his. + +"What do you mean?" she enquired, staring into her cup. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Yes--no!" she murmured hastily and a little breathlessly, as Spike +reentered, and paused, jug in hand, to stare. + +"What--haven't you served Hermy--yet?" he enquired in an injured tone. + +"Certainly I have," answered Ravenslee, "here it is, you see--all +ready!" + +"Only you forgot t' hand it t' her, and she forgot t' take it. Well, +say--for hungry folks you two are the limit!" + +"'Man doth not live by bread alone,' boy; we were talking," said +Ravenslee, handing Hermione her plate. + +"You said you liked milk and sugar, didn't you, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Holy Gee!" murmured Spike. + +"Milk and sugar, thank you," said Ravenslee, heedful of her deepened +colour. + +"Geoff," enquired Spike gently, "if I was to hang on to that drumstick, +d' ye suppose you might be able to hack it off for me--some day?" + +"My Arthur," said Ravenslee, plying knife and fork energetically, "'tis +done--behold it!" + +"But surely," said Hermione, glancing up suddenly, "surely you +don't--like Mulligan's, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Like it, Miss Hermione? I--abominate it!" + +"Oh!" + +"Say, Geoff," mourned Spike, "don't I get any stuffin' after all?" + +"Mr. Geoffrey, I've been wondering how you and Arthur met--and where, +and--" + +"Gee, Hermy!" Spike exclaimed, "you sure do talk! If you go on asking +poor old Geoff s' many questions, he'll forget t' serve himself this +week. Look at his plate!" + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, do serve yourself, please, and--oh, my gracious! +I've forgotten to give you your tea; I'm so sorry!" + +Here Spike, having once again staved off the inevitable explanation, +grew hilarious, and they laughed and talked the while they ate and drank +with youthful, healthy appetites. And what a supper that was! What +tongue could tell the gaiety and utter content that possessed them all +three? What pen describe all Hermione's glowing beauty, or how her blue +eyes, meeting eyes of grey would, for no perceptible reason, grow +sweetly troubled, waver in their glance, and veil themselves beneath +sudden, down-drooping lashes? What mere words could ever describe all +the subtle, elusive witchery of her? + +And Spike--ate, of course, in a blissful silence for the most part and +whole-heartedly, his attention centred exclusively upon his plate; thus +how should he know or care how often, across that diminished turkey, +grey eyes looked into blue? As for Ravenslee, he ate and drank he knew +and cared not what, content to sit and watch her when he might--the +delicious curves of white neck and full, round throat, the easy grace of +movement that spoke her vigorous youth; joying in the soft murmurs of +her voice, the low, sweet ring of her laughter, and thrilling responsive +to her warm young womanhood. + +"But Mr. Geoffrey," she enquired suddenly, "if you hate Mulligan's as +much as I do, whatever made you choose to live here?" + +"A thrice blessed fate," he answered, "I came because--er--" + +"You were a poor, lonely guy," added Spike hastily. + +"Precisely, Spike! Compared to my sordid poverty Lazarus was rich, and +as for the loneliness of my existence the--er--abomination of desolation +was a flowery garden!" + +"And how did you happen to meet Ar--" + +A plate crashed to pieces on the floor, and turning, she beheld Spike +very red and rueful of visage. + +"'Fraid I've bent a plate, Hermy," he explained, and winking desperately +at Ravenslee, he stooped to gather up the fragments. + +"Oh, Arthur, and we have so few--" + +"Yes, I know--but it's only the old cracked one, Hermy." + +"You've broken an awful lot of things lately, boy dear," she sighed. +"Never mind--get on with your supper, dear." + +"Oh, I'm all right, but what about you? Gee, Hermy, you sure do talk!" + +"Do I, dear?" + +"Well, I guess! You keep on at poor old Geoff so he don't get a chance +for a real proper chew." + +"But then you see," said Ravenslee, "I would much rather talk than +eat--sometimes." + +"But say, Geoff--" + +"Miss Hermione, you were asking how I met--" + +"Hey, Geoff!" said Spike hoarsely. + +"How I met your brother," continued Ravenslee, silencing the boy with a +look. "Miss Hermione, I'll tell you full and freely." Here Spike took a +gulp of tea and choked, also his brow grew clammy, and he stared with +dilating eyes at Ravenslee, who began forthwith: + +"Once upon a time, Miss Hermione, that is to say upon a certain dark +night, a man sat alone, physically and mentally alone, and very wretched +because his life was empty of all achievement--because, having been +blessed with many opportunities, he had never done anything worth while. +And as he sat there, looking back through the wasted years, this +miserable fool was considering, in his wretched folly, the cowardly sin +of self-destruction, because he was sick of the world and all things in +it--especially of his own useless self! But I hope I don't--er--bore +you, do I?" + +"No," she answered a little breathlessly, gazing at him with eyes deep +and tender; "go on--please go on!" + +"Well," continued Ravenslee gravely, "Destiny, or Heaven, or the +Almighty, taking pity on this sorry fool, sent to him an angel in the +shape of--your brother." + +"Of--Arthur?" she exclaimed, while Spike's rigid attitude relaxed, and +he drew a sudden, deep breath. + +"Of Arthur!" nodded Ravenslee. "And Arthur lifted him out of the Slough +of Despond and taught him that life might be a useful thing after all, +if he could but find some object to help him--one who might inspire him +to nobler things. And so he came here, hoping to find this object." + +"An object?" she enquired softly. + +"The Definite Object!" he answered, "with capital letters. One who might +make life truly worth while. One who, teaching him to forget himself, +should lift him to better things. An object to live for, work for, and +if necessary to--die for!" + +Here Spike, finding himself utterly forgotten again, sighed in deep and +audible relief, and taking up knife and fork, fell to with renewed +appetite, while Hermione, chin rested on folded hands, gazed into +Ravenslee's grave face. + +"Do you think he will ever--find his Object?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"You seem very--confident." + +"I am! You see, she's found." + +"She?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes beginning to waver. + +"With a capital S," said he, leaning nearer. "The Woman! And it's right +here that his difficulties begin, because in the first place he is so +humble and she is so proud and--" + +"Proud?" said she, glancing up swiftly. + +"And so very beautiful!" he continued. + +"Oh!" said she, and this time she did not look at him. + +"Say," quoth Spike, "I think I could go another drumstick, Geoff." + +"And in the second place, he is so unworthy and she so--" + +"An' a bit more stuflin', Geoff," sighed Spike. + +"Can she--help him?" enquired Hermione, stirring her tea absently. + +"She is the only one who can--help me." + +"Oh!" said Hermione again, very softly this time, stirring a little +faster; and, conscious of his glance, flushed deliciously and was silent +awhile. As for Spike, he glanced from one rapt face to the other +and--unostentatiously helped himself to more turkey. + +"But," said Hermione at last, "how can--she help?" + +"By constant association," answered Ravenslee, "by affording me the +daily example of her sweet self-forgetfulness and blameless life." + +"Are you sure she is so--very good?" + +"I am sure she is braver and nobler than any woman I have ever known!" + +Once more Spike glanced from the flushed beauty of his sister's +half-averted face to Ravenslee's shining eyes, and boldly helped himself +to more seasoning. + +"Have you known her very long, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Long enough to know she is--the only woman!" + +"Say, Geoff," sighed Spike, "I guess old Pffeff was right about this +bird; she kind o' melts--'n' say--she's meltin' fast! If you two don't +stop chewin' d' rag an' get busy you'll be too late for this bird, +because this bird is sure a bird of passage and--Holy Gee!" he broke +off, as a knock sounded on the outer door, "who's this, I wonder?" + +Before he could rise, Hermione had vanished into the passage. + +"Say, Geoff," he whispered, "how if it's Bud?" + +Ravenslee frowned and pushed back his chair, but in that moment they +heard Hermione's glad welcome: "Why, Ann, you dear thing, you're just in +time for the turkey--come right in." + +"Turkey, my dear!" spoke the harsh voice of Mrs. Trapes. "Turkey--land +sakes! But I only jest stepped over t' ask if you'd happened to find +that lodger o' mine anywheres--why, Lord bless me!" she broke off, +halting in the doorway as she beheld Ravenslee. "Lordy Lord, if he ain't +a-settin' there, cool as ever was! If he ain't a-eatin' an' drinkin' an' +me cookin' him at this moment the loveliest mutton chop you ever see! A +mutton chop wiv a kidney, as he ordered most express--Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey!" + +"Why, to be sure," said Ravenslee, rising. "I forgot all about that +chop, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Didn't you order it most express--cut thick--an' wiv a kidney?" + +"I did," said Ravenslee penitently. + +"Well--there it is, cooked to a turn, an' nobody t' eat it! An' kidneys +is rose again--kidneys is always risin'. Lord, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"Why, you see, Mrs. Trapes, we--that is, I had a birthday not long ago, +and we're celebrating." + +"And so shall you, Ann," said Hermione, "sit down, dear!" + +"An' me in me oldest apron?" said Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows, "my +dear, I couldn't--an' I wouldn't! But, oh! Mr. Geoffrey, what about that +beautiful chop? I might warm it over for your breakfast?" + +"Heaven forbid!" + +"Then I must eat it myself, I suppose, though it do seem a shame to +waste such a lovely chop on Ann Angelina Trapes! But, Hermy dear, I just +been down to see Mrs. Bowker, an' her little Hazel's very bad--her poor +little hip again, an' she's coughin' too, somethin' dreadful." + +"Poor little Hazel! Did she ask for me, Ann?" + +"Well, my dear, she did, an' Mrs. Bowker did ask if you'd go an' look at +her--but I do hate t' disturb ye, that I do!" + +"Oh, it's all right, Ann. Tell Mrs. Bowker I'll be right down." + +"I will so, but it's a dratted shame as you should shoulder everybody's +troubles, that it is." + +"Oh, Ann--as though I do! And then how about yourself, dear--what of the +Baxters and the Ryders, and Mrs. Tipping's baby and--" + +"My land!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "that chop'll be a cinder!" and she +hurried away. + +"Poor little Hazel," said Hermione, coming to a small corner cupboard. +"She's such a dear, quaint little person! You must have seen her on the +stairs, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"I see so many on the stairs, Miss Hermione, and they are always small +and generally quaint." + +"Hazel's got a game leg, Geoff," said Spike, "an' she hops around +on a little crutch. She told me yesterday she thought you was--I mean +were--a fairy prince, because you always bow an' tip your lid to her +when she says 'good morning.' So now she waits for you every morning, +Geoff--says it makes her feel like she was a real fairy princess in a +story-book. Sounds kind o' batty to me, though." + +Hermione was standing on tiptoe endeavouring to reach a certain bottle +upon the top shelf where were ranged many others of various shapes and +sizes, when Ravenslee's big hand did it for her; but when she would have +taken it, he shook his head. + +"I should like to go with you, if I may," he said, "to be--er--formally +introduced to the princess." + +"But--" began Hermione, hesitating. + +"Also I could carry the bottle for you." + +"Why, if you will do all that--" she smiled. + +"Thanks!" he answered, and putting the bottle in his pocket, he opened +the door. + +"Hey, Geoff," Spike called after him, "you've forgot to kiss the turkey +good-by!" + +"Why then, you can do it for me, Spike!" he answered, and followed +Hermione out upon the landing. + +Side by side they descended the stair, in the doing of which her soft +shoulder met him once, and once he thrilled to feel her hand touch his +in the shadow, but this hand was hastily withdrawn; also, though the +light was dim, he saw that she was frowning and biting her red underlip. + +"These stairs are rather--narrow, aren't they?" said she, drawing to the +wall. + +"Delightfully!" he answered, drawing to the rail; and so they went down +very silently with the width of the stairs between them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +WHEREIN MAY BE FOUND SOME PARTICULARS OF THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF PERHAPS + + +Mrs. Bowker was a small woman, worn and faded like her carpets and +curtains and the dress she wore, but, like them, she was very clean and +neat. + +"'T is real good of you to come, Miss Hermy," said this small, faded +woman, and Ravenslee thought her very voice sounded faded, so repressed +and dismally soft was it. "I wouldn't have had the face t' send for you, +Miss Hermy, only Hazel calls an' calls, like she's doin' now--listen!" + +And sure enough from somewhere near by a small voice reached them, +pitifully faint and thin: "Hermy dear, come t' me--oh, Hermy dear!" + +"She allus lays an' calls like that lately when her poor hip's worse 'n +usual," sighed Mrs. Bowker. "And your gentleman friend--would he like t' +see her too?" + +"Thank you, I should," answered Ravenslee in his soft, pleasant voice. + +"Oh, Mrs. Bowker, this is Mr. Geoffrey," said Hermione a trifle +hurriedly, "he came with me to--to--" + +"Be presented to the princess, if she will honour me," he added. + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Bowker, looking up at him with a faded smile, "Hazel +told me you had a pretty voice, sir, an' I guess I know what she meant. +She sets out on the stairs when she's well enough an' has often seen +ye." + +"Hermy, dear, come t' me--oh, Hermy dear!" called the little voice. + +"Yes, go in, my dear, you know y' way, I guess," sighed Mrs. Bowker, +passing a small, worn hand across her faded eyes. "There's five dozen +more collar-bands I must stitch an' buttonhole t'night--so go your ways, +my dear." So saying, Mrs. Bowker went back to her labour, which was very +hard labour indeed, while Hermione led the way into a tiny room, where, +on a small, neat truckle-bed covered by a faded quilt, a small, pale +child lay fading fast. But at sight of her visitors, two big, brown eyes +grew bigger yet, and her pale, thin little cheeks flushed eagerly. + +"Oh, Hermy dear!" she cried, clasping frail hands, "oh, Hermy, you've +brought him--you've brought me our fairy prince at last!" + +Now what was there in these childish words to cause Hermione's eyes to +droop so suddenly as she took the bottle from Ravenslee's hand, or her +rounded cheek to flush so painfully as she stooped to meet the child's +eager kiss, or, when she turned away to measure a dose of the medicine, +to be such an unconscionable time over it? Observing all of which, +Ravenslee forthwith saluted the small invalid with a grave bow, battered +hat gracefully flourished. + +"It is truly an honour to meet you, princess!" said he, and lifting the +child's frail little hand, he touched it to his lips. Thereafter, +obeying the mute appeal of that hand, he seated himself upon the narrow +bed, while Hermione, soft-voiced and tender, bent above the invalid, +who, having obediently swallowed her medicine, leaned back on her pillow +and smiled from one to the other. + +"And now," said she, drawing Hermione down at her other side and +snuggling between, "now please let's all tell some more fairy tale; an' +please, you begin, Hermy, just where you had t' leave off last time." + +"Why, I--I'm afraid I've forgotten, dear," said Hermione, bending to +smooth the child's pillow. + +"Forgotten--oh, Hermy! But I 'member quite well; you got where poor +Princess Nobody was climbing the mountain very tired an' sad an' +carrying her heavy pack, an' all at once--along came the Prince an' +took her heavy bundle and said he'd love to carry it for her always if +she'd let him. An' poor Nobody knew he was the real Prince at last--the +Prince she'd dreamed of an' waited for all her life, 'cos he'd got grey +eyes so brave an' true--an' he was so big an' strong an' noble. So he +helped her to the top of the mountain, an' then she thought at last she +could see the beautiful City of Perhaps. That's where you got to--don't +you 'member, Hermy dear?" + +Now why should Hermione's shapely head have drooped and drooped until +at last her face was hidden on the pillow? And why should Geoffrey +Ravenslee reach to touch the child's hair with hand so light and tender? + +"The beautiful City of Perhaps," said he gently, "why, Princess, where +did you learn about that?" + +"From dear Princess Nobody, oh, Prince!" + +"And who is she?" + +"Why, she's Hermy, Prince--and I'm Princess Somebody. And oh, Hermy +dear, you do 'member where you left off now, don't you?" + +"Yes, I remember; but I--don't feel like telling fairy stories now, +dear." + +"Oh! are y' sick?" cried the child anxiously, touching Hermione's golden +hair with loving fingers, "is it a headache like my mumsey gets?" + +"N-no, dear, only I--I don't feel like telling any more of our +story--to-night--somehow, dear." + +"Princess," said Ravenslee, "do you know much about the wonderful City +of Perhaps?" + +"Oh, yes--an' I dream about it sometimes, Prince--such beautiful dreams!" + +"Why, of course," nodded Ravenslee, "because it is the most beautiful +City that ever happened, I guess!" + +"Oh, it is!" cried the child, "shall I tell you?" + +"Please do, Princess." + +"Well, it's all made of crystal an' gold, an' every one's happy there +and never sick--oh, never! An' all the children can have ices an' cream +sodas whenever they want an' lovely doll-carriages with rubber on the +wheels an'--an' everything's just lovely. Of course every one's daddy's +got lots an' heaps an' piles of money, so they never get behind with the +rent an' never have to set up all night stitching an' stitching like +mumsey an' Hermy have to sometimes. An' I'm Princess Somebody, an' +Hermy's Princess Nobody, an' we're on our ways through the valley of +gloom, trying to find the beautiful City of Perhaps--but oh, it's awful +hard to find!" she ended, with a weary little sigh. + +"And yet, Princess, I'm sure we shall find it." + +"We? Oh, are you coming too, Prince?" cried the child joyfully. + +"To be sure I am!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"Oh, goody, I'm glad--so glad, 'cause I know we shall find it now!" + +"Why?" + +"Well," answered the child, looking at him with her big, wistful eyes, +"'cause you look like you could find it, somehow. You see, Prince, +you've got grey eyes so brave an' true--an' you're big an' strong an' +could carry me an' Hermy over the thorny places when we get very, very +tired--couldn't you?" + +"I could!" answered Ravenslee almost grimly, "and I--surely will!" + +"When we get there, Prince, I want first--a doll-carriage an' a doll +with lovely blue eyes that wink at you, an' a big box of candy, an' a +new dress for my mumsey, an' no more work, an' I want lots an' lots of +flowers for my daddy 'cause he loves flowers--oh, an' I want my leg t' +be made well. What d' you want, Hermy?" + +"Well, dear, I want to--say good-by to my sewing-machine for ever and +ever and ever!" + +"Why, Hermy!" exclaimed the child, "last time you said you wanted some +one who could give you your heart's desire!" + +"Perhaps that is my heart's desire, little Hazel," said Hermione, rising +and taking up the medicine bottle. + +"An' what do you want, Prince?" + +"I want a great deal," answered Ravenslee, smiling down into the big, +soft eyes. "I want some one who--is my heart's desire now and for ever +and ever. Good night, dear little Princess!" + +"You'll come again, Prince?" she pleaded, holding up her face to be +kissed, "you'll come again soon?" + +"As soon as--Princess Nobody will bring me." + +"Good night, Hermy dear; you'll bring our Prince again soon?" + +"If you wish, dear," said Hermione, stooping to kiss her in turn. + +"Why, Hermy--what makes your cheeks so hot to-night?" + +"Are they?" said Hermione, making pretence to test them with the back of +her hand. + +"Why, yes," nodded the child, "an' they look so red an'--" + +"Of course you believe in fairies, don't you, Princess?" enquired +Ravenslee rather hurriedly. + +"Oh, yes, Prince, I often see them in my dreams. They just wait till I'm +asleep, an' then they come an' show themselves. Do you ever see any?" + +"Well, your highness, I fancy I have lately, and when fairies are +around, things are sure to happen; wishes get the habit of coming true. +So, little Princess, just go on wishing and dreaming and--watch out!" + +Then Ravenslee turned and followed Hermione out upon the dingy landing; +but as he climbed the stair, there went with him the memory of a little +face, very thin and pale, but radiant and all aglow with rapturous hope. +Silently as they had come they mounted the stairs, until, reaching the +topmost landing, they paused as by mutual consent. + +"Poor little Hazel!" said Hermione very gently, "if only there were real +fairies to spirit her away to where the air is sweet and pure and +flowers grow for little hands to gather--the doctor told me it was her +only chance." + +"Why, then of course she must have her chance!" said Ravenslee with a +sleepy nod. + +"But, Mr. Geoffrey--how?" + +"Well--er--the fairies--you said something about fairies spiriting--" + +"The fairies!" said Hermione a little bitterly, "I guess they are too +busy over their own affairs to trouble about a poor, little, sick child; +besides, what fairy could possibly live five minutes in--Mulligan's?" + +"Which leaves us," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "which leaves us the +beautiful City of Perhaps. It is a wonderful thought, that!" + +"But only a thought!" she sighed. + +"Is it? Are you quite sure?" + +"Well, isn't it?" she questioned wistfully. + +"No!" he answered gravely, "the City of Perhaps is very, very real." + +"What do you mean?" + +Once again their hands touched in the shadow, but this time his fingers +closed upon her hand, the hand that held the medicine bottle, drawing +her nearer in the dimness of that dingy landing. + +"I mean," he answered, "that for every one of us there is a City of +Perhaps waiting to open its gates to our coming, and I am sure we shall +reach it sooner or later, all three of us--the Princess and you and +I--yes, even I, when I have done something worth while. And then, +Hermione, then--nothing shall keep me from--my heart's delight--nothing, +Hermione!" As he ended, she felt an arm about her in the dimness; an arm +fierce and strong that gripped and swept her close--then, as suddenly, +loosed her. For a breathless moment he stood with head bowed in seeming +humility, then, stooping, he crushed her hand, medicine bottle and all, +to lips that burned with anything but humility. + +"Good night, dear Princess Nobody!" he said, and watched her turn away, +nor moved until the door had closed upon her. That night he smoked many +pipes, weaving him fancies of the beautiful City of Perhaps, and dreamed +dreams of what might be, and his eyes glowed bright and wide, and his +mouth grew alternately grim and tender. And, that night, long after he +lay asleep, Hermione's golden head was bowed above her work, but, more +than once she stayed her humming sewing-machine to look at one white +hand with eyes shy and wistful--the hand that had held the medicine +bottle, of course. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +OF A TEXT, A LETTER, AND A SONG + + +Ravenslee opened his eyes to find his small chamber full of a glory of +sun which poured a flood of radiance across his narrow bed; it brought +out the apoplectic roses on the wall paper and lent a new lustre to the +dim and faded gold frame that contained a fly-blown card whereon was the +legend: + +LOVE ONE ANOTHER + +And with his gaze upon this time-honoured text, Ravenslee smiled, and +leaping out of bed proceeded to wash and shave and dress, pausing often +to glance glad-eyed from his open window upon the glory of the new day. +And indeed it was a morning of all-pervading beauty, one such that even +Mulligan's, its dingy bricks and mortar mellowed by the sun, seemed less +unlovely than its wont, and its many windows, catching a sunbeam here +and there, winked and twinkled waggishly. + +So Ravenslee washed and shaved and dressed, glancing now and then from +this transfigured Mulligan's to the fly-blown text upon the wall, and +once he laughed, though not very loudly to be sure, and once he hummed +a song and so fell to soft whistling, all of which was very strange in +Geoffrey Ravenslee. + +The sun, it is true, radiates life and joy; before his beneficence gloom +and depression flee away, and youth and health grow strong to achieve +the impossible; even age and sickness, bathed in his splendour, may +forget awhile their burdens and dream of other days. Truly sunshine is a +thrice blessed thing. And yet, as Ravenslee tied the neckerchief about +his brawny throat, was it by reason of the sun alone that his grey eyes +were so bright and joyous and that he whistled so soft and merrily? + +Having brushed his hair and settled his vivid-hued neckerchief to his +liking, he turned, and stooping over his humble bed, slipped a hand +beneath the tumbled pillow and drew thence a letter; a somewhat crumpled +missive, this, that he had borne about with him all the preceding day +and read and reread at intervals even as he proceeded to do now, as, +standing in the radiant sunbeams, he unfolded a sheet of very ordinary +note paper and slowly scanned these lines written in a bold, flowing +hand: + +Dear Mr. Geoffrey + +I find I must be away from home all this week; will you please watch over +my dear boy for me? Then I shall work with a glad heart. Am I wrong in +asking this of you, I wonder? Anyway, I am + +Your grateful + +Hermione C. + +P.S. I hear you are a peanut man. You!! + +Truly the sun is a thrice-blessed thing--and yet--! Having read this +over with the greatest attention, taking preposterous heed to every dot +and comma, having carefully refolded it, slipped it into the envelope +and hidden it upon his person, he raised his eyes to the spotted text +upon the wall. + +"You're right," quoth he, nodding, "an altogether wise precept and one I +have had by heart ever since she blessed my sight. I must introduce you +to her at the earliest--the very earliest opportunity." + +Then he fell to whistling softly again, and opening the door, stepped +out into the bright little sitting room. Early though it was, Mrs. +Trapes was already astir in her kitchen, and since sunshine is +indubitably a worker of wonders, Mrs. Trapes was singing, rather harshly +to be sure, yet singing nevertheless, and this was her song: + +"Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah, + Obadiah, Obadiah, I am dry. + Said the old Obadiah to the young Obadiah, + Obadiah, Obadiah, so am I. + Said the young--" + +The song ended abruptly as, opening the door, she beheld her lodger. + +"Lordy Lord, Mr. Geoffrey," she exclaimed a little reproachfully, +"whatever are you a-doin' of, up an' dressed an' not half-past five +yet?" + +"Enjoying the morning, Mrs. Trapes, and yearning for my breakfast." + +"Ah, that's just like a man; they're almighty good yearners till +they get what they yearns for--then they yearns for somethin' +else--immediate!" + +"Well, but I suppose women yearn too, sometimes, don't they?" + +"Not they; women can only hope an' sigh an' languish an' break their +hearts in silence, poor dears." + +"What for?" + +"Would a couple o' fresh eggs an' a lovely ham rasher soot ye?" enquired +Mrs. Trapes. + +"They will suit." + +"Then I'll go and fry' em!" + +"And I'll come and look on, if I may," said he, and followed her into +her neat kitchen. + +"And how," said Mrs. Trapes, as she prepared to make the coffee, "how's +the peanut trade, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Flourishing, thanks." + +"The idea of you a-sellin' peanuts!" + +"Well, I've only been guilty of it four days so far, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Anyway, you've disgusted Hermy!" + +"Ah, so you told her, did you?" + +"O' course I did!" + +"And what did she say?" + +"Laughed at first." + +"She has a beautiful laugh!" said Ravenslee musingly. + +"An' then she got thoughtful--" + +"She's loveliest when she's thoughtful, I think," said Ravenslee. + +"An' then she got mad at you an' frowned--" + +"She's very handsome when she frowns!" said Ravenslee. + +"Oh, shucks!" said his landlady, slapping the ham rasher into the pan. + +"And she was very angry, was she?" + +"I should say so!" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "stamped her foot an' got red in +the face--" + +"I love to see her flush!" said Ravenslee musingly again. + +"Said she wondered at you, she did! Said you was a man without any pride +or ambition--an' that's what I say too--peanuts!" + +"They're very wholesome!" he murmured. + +"Sellin' peanuts ain't a man's job, no more than grinding a organ is." + +"There's money in peanuts!" + +"Money!" said Mrs. Trapes, wriggling her elbow joints. "How much did you +make yesterday--come?" + +"Fifty cents." + +"Fifty cents!" she almost screamed, "is that all?" + +"No--pardon me! There were three pimply youths on Forty-second +Street--they brought it up to seventy-five." + +"Only seventy-five cents? But you sold out your stock; Tony told me you +did." + +"Oh, yes, trade was very brisk yesterday." + +"And you sold everything for seventy-five cents?" + +"Not exactly, Mrs. Trapes. You see, the majority of customers on my beat +are very--er--small, and their pecuniary capabilities necessarily +somewhat--shall we say restricted? Consequently, I have adopted +the--er--deferred payment system." + +"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring, "d'ye mean ter say--" + +"That my method of business is strictly--credit." + +"Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm talkin' serious an' don't want none +o' your jokes or jollying." + +"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Well, then, how d' you suppose you can keep a wife and children, maybe, +by selling peanuts that way or any way?" + +"Oh, when I marry I shall probably turn my--attention to--er--other +things, Mrs. Trapes." + +"What things?" + +"Well--to my wife, in the first place." + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, you make me tired!" + +"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, I frequently grow tired of myself." + +Mrs. Trapes turned away to give her attention to the ham. + +"Did ye see that b'y Arthur yesterday?" she enquired presently over her +shoulder. + +"Yes." + +"How's he like his noo job?" + +"Well, I can't say that he seems--er--fired with a passion for it." + +"Office work, ain't it?" + +"I believe it is." + +"Well, you mark my words, that b'y won't keep it a week." + +"Oh, I don't know," said Ravenslee, "he seemed quite content." + +"You took him to the theayter las' night, didn't you? Wastin' your good +money, eh?" + +"Not very much, Mrs. Trapes," said her lodger humbly. + +Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Anyway, it's a good thing you had him safe out o' +the way, as it happens." + +"Why?" + +"Because that loafer M'Ginnis was hanging around for him all the +evenin'. Even had the dratted imperence to come in here an' ask me where +he was." + +"And what did you tell him?" + +"Tell him?" she repeated. "What did I not tell him!" Her voice was +gentle, but what words could convey all the quivering ferocity of her +elbows! "Mr. Geoffrey, I told Bud M'Ginnis just exactly what kind o' a +beast Bud M'Ginnis is. I told Bud M'Ginnis where Bud M'Ginnis come from +an' where Bud M'Ginnis would go to. I told Bud M'Ginnis the character of +his mother an' father, very plain an' p'inted." + +"And what did he say?" + +"He say! Mr. Geoffrey, I didn't give him a chance to utter a single +word, of course. An' when I'd said all there was to say, I picked up my +heaviest flatiron, as happened to be handy, an' ordered him out; and Mr. +Geoffrey, Bud M'Ginnis--went!" + +"Under the circumstances," said Ravenslee, "I'm not surprised that he +did." + +"Ah, but he'll come back again, Mr. Geoffrey; he'll find Arthur alone +next time, an' Arthur'll go along with him, and then--good night! The +b'y'll get drunk an' lose his job like he did last time." + +"Why, then, he mustn't find Arthur alone." + +"And who's t' stop him?" + +"I." + +"Mr. Geoffrey, you're big an' strong, but M'Ginnis is stronger--and +yet--" Mrs. Trapes ran a speculative eye over Ravenslee's lounging form. +"H'm!" said she musingly, "but even if you did happen to lick him, what +about th' gang?" + +"Echo, Mrs. Trapes, promptly answers, 'what'?" + +"Well, Mr. Geoffrey, I can tell ye there's been more 'n one poor feller +killed around here to my knowing--yes, sir!" + +"But the police?" + +"Perlice!" snorted Mrs. Trapes. "M'Ginnis an' his father have a big pull +with Tammany, an' Tammany is the perlice. Anyways, Mr. Geoffrey, don't +you go having no trouble with Bud M'Ginnis; leave him to some one as is +as much a brute-beast as he is." + +"But then--what of Spike?" + +"Oh, drat him! If Arthur ain't got the horse sense to know who's his +worst enemy, he ain't worth a clean man riskin' his life over--for it +would be your life you'd risk, Mr. Geoffrey--mark my words!" + +"Mrs. Trapes, your anxiety on my account flatters me, also I'm glad to +know you think me a clean man. But all men must take risks--some for +money, some for honour, and some for the pure love of it. Personally, I +rather like a little risk--just a suspicion, if it's for something worth +while." + +"Mr. Geoffrey, what are you gettin' at?" + +"Well, I would remind you that Spike has--a sister!" + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Trapes, and her lined face took on a sudden anxious +expression. + +"Therefore, I've been contemplating--er--tackling Mr. M'Ginnis--at a +proper and auspicious time, of course." + +"An' what o' the gang?" + +"Oh, drat the gang, Mrs. Trapes." + +"But you don't mean as you'd fight M'Ginnis?" + +"Well--er--the thought has occurred to me, Mrs. Trapes, though I'm quite +undecided on the matter, and--er--I believe my breakfast is burning!" + +"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, turning to snatch the pan from the +stove, "I'm afraid the fire's ketched it a bit, Mr. Geoffrey--" + +"No matter." + +"An' now there's the coffee b'ilin' over!" + +"Let me help you," said Ravenslee, rising. + +"Anyway, your breakfast's ready, so come an' eat it while it's good an' +hot." + +"On condition that you eat with me." + +"What, eat wi' you, Mr. Geoffrey--in my best parlour--an' me in me +workin' clo'es?" + +"Ah, to be sure--not to be thought of, Mrs. Trapes; then we'll breakfast +here in the kitchen." + +"Would ye mind?" + +"Should love it." + +So down they sat together, and Ravenslee vowed the ham was all ham +should be and the eggs beyond praise. And when his hunger was somewhat +appeased, Mrs. Trapes leaned her bony elbows on the table and questioned +him. + +"You ain't ever spoke to Hermy, have you, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"Very often, lately." + +"I mean--you ain't opened your 'eart to her--matrimonially, have you?" + +"No!" + +"Why, then, I'll tell you what--there's been times when I've been afraid +that for the sake o' that b'y she'd sacrifice herself to Bud M'Ginnis." + +"No, she would never do that, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Oh, but she would." + +"But, you see, she couldn't!" + +"And why not?" + +"Oh, well, because--er--I should kill him first." + +"Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey!" and Mrs. Trapes actually blenched before the +glare in his eyes that was so strangely at odds with his soft, lazy +tones. + +"And that ends it!" he nodded. "Mrs. Trapes, I've made up my mind!" + +"What about?" + +"Mr. M'Ginnis. I'll begin to-day." + +"Begin what?" + +"To prepare myself to bestow on him the thrashing of his life!" So +saying, Ravenslee stretched lazily and finally got up. "Good morning, +Mrs. Trapes!" said he. + +"But where are ye going?" she demanded. + +"To my peanuts," he answered gravely. "'Man is born to labour,' you, +know." + +"But it's early yet." + +"But I have much to do--and she laughed at me for being a peanut man, +did she, Mrs. Trapes--she frowned and flushed and stamped her pretty +foot at me, did she?" + +"She did so, Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"I'm glad!" he answered. "Yes, I'm very glad she frowned and stamped +her foot at me. By the way, I like that text in my bedroom." + +"Text?" said Mrs. Trapes, staring. + +"'Love one another,'" he nodded. "It is a very--very beautiful +sentiment--sometimes. Anyway, I'm glad she frowned and stamped at me, +Mrs. Trapes; you can tell her I said so if you happen to think of it +when she comes home." And Ravenslee smiled, and turning away, was gone. + +"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, staring at the closed door, "of all the--well, +well!" Then she sighed, shook her head, and fell to washing up the +breakfast things. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +WHICH INTRODUCES JOE AND THE OLD UN + + +The clocks were striking nine as, according to his custom of late, +Geoffrey Ravenslee trundled his barrow blithely along Thirty-eighth +Street, halting now and then at the shrill, imperious summons of some +small customer, or by reason of the congestion of early traffic, or to +swear whole-heartedly and be sworn at by some indignant Jehu. At length +he came to Eleventh Avenue and to a certain quarter where the whistle of +a peanut barrow was seldom heard, and peanuts were a luxury. + +And here, in a dismal, small street hard by the river, behold Ravenslee +halt his gaily painted pushcart, whereat a shrill clamour arises that +swells upon the air, a joyous babel; and forth from small and dismal +homes, from narrow courts and the purlieus adjacent, his customers +appear. They race, they gambol, they run and toddle, for these customers +are very small and tender and grimy, but each small face is alight with +joyous welcome, and they hail him with rapturous acclaim. Even the few +tired-looking mothers, peeping from windows or glancing from doorways, +smile and nod and forget awhile their weariness in the children's +delight, as Ravenslee, the battered hat cocked at knowing angle, +proceeds to "business." Shrill voices supplicate him, little feet patter +close around him, small hands, eagerly outstretched, appeal to him. Anon +rise shrieks and infantile crowings of delight as each small hand is +drawn back grasping a plump paper bag--shrieks and crowings that +languish and die away, one by one, since no human child may shriek +properly and chew peanuts at one and the same time. And in a while, his +stock greatly diminished, Ravenslee trundles off and leaves behind him +women who smile still and small boys and girls who munch in a rapturous +silence. + +On he went, his oven whistling soft and shrill, his long legs striding +between the shafts, until, reaching a certain bleak corner, he halted +again, though to be sure there were few people hereabouts and no +children. But upon the opposite corner was a saloon, with a large annex +and many outbuildings behind, backing upon the river, and Ravenslee, +lounging on the handles of his barrow, examined this unlovely building +with keen eye from beneath his hat brim, for above the swing doors +appeared the words: + +O'ROURKE'S SALOON + +He was in the act of lighting his pipe when the doors of the saloon were +swung open, and three men came out, in one of whom he recognised the +tall, powerful figure and broad shoulders of Bud M'Ginnis; his +companions were remarkable, but in very opposite ways, the one being +slender and youthful and very smartly dressed, with a face which, +despite its seeming youth, was strangely haggard and of an unhealthy +pallor, while the other was plethoric, red-faced and middle-aged, a man +hoarse of voice and roughly clad, and Ravenslee noticed that this fellow +lacked the upper half of one ear. + +"Saturday night, mind!" said M'Ginnis, loud and authoritative. + +"But say, Bud," demanded the smartly dressed youth, "what's coming to us +on that last deal?" + +"Nix--that's what you get, Soapy!" The youth's pale cheek grew livid. + +"So you've got the deck stacked against us, eh, Bud?" said he. + +"I got a close mouth, Soapy, I guess you don't want me t' open it very +wide--now or any other old time. Saturday night, mind!" and nodding, +M'Ginnis turned away. The youth looked after him with venomous eyes, +and his right hand made a sinister movement toward his hip pocket. + +"Aw--quit it; are ye crazy?" grunted his companion. "Bud's got us +cinched." + +"Got us--hell!" snarled the youth. "Bud's askin' for it, an' some day +he's goin' t' get it--good!" + +Toward afternoon, Ravenslee was trundling light-heartedly eastward, +his barrow emptied to the last peanut. Having reached Fifth Avenue, +he paused to mop his perspiring brow when a long, low automobile, +powerfully engined, that was creeping along behind, pulled up with a +sudden jerk, and its driver, whose immense shoulders were clad in a very +smart livery, pushed up the peak of his smart cap to run his fingers +through his close-cropped hair, while his mild blue eyes grew very wide +and round. + +"Crikey!" said he at last. "Is that you, sir, or ain't it?" + +"How much?" demanded Ravenslee gruffly. + +"Crumbs!" said the chauffeur. "Sir, if you--ain't you, all I say is--I +ain't me!" + +"Aw--what's bitin' ye, bo?" growled Ravenslee. + +"Well, if this ain't the rummest go, I'm a perisher!" + +"Say, now, crank up d' machine an' beat it while d' goin' 's good. How's +that, Joe?" + +"Lord, Mr. Ravenslee--so you are my guv'nor, and blow me tight--shoving +a barrer! I knowed it was you, sir; leastways I knowed your legs an' the +set o' them shoulders, but--with a barrer! Excuse me, sir, but the idea +o' you pushing a perishing peanut barrer so gay an' 'appy-'earted--well, +all I can say is love-a-duck!" + +"Well now, cut along, Joe, and get ready. I mean to put in some real +hard work with you this afternoon." + +"Right-o, sir!" nodded Joe eagerly. "Lord, but we've missed you +terrible--the Old Un an' me." + +"Glad of it, Joe! Tell Patterson to have my bath ready when we've +finished. Off with you--drive in the Fifth Avenue entrance." + +Joe nodded, and the big car turned and crept silently away, while +Ravenslee, trundling onward, turned off to the left and so into a very +large, exceedingly neat garage where stood five or six automobiles of +various patterns in one of which, a luxurious limousine, an old, old man +snored blissfully. At the rumble of the barrow, however, this ancient +being choked upon a snore, coughed, swore plaintively, and finally sat +up. Perceiving Ravenslee, he blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stepping from +the car very nimbly despite his years, faced the intruder with a +ferocious scowl. + +He was indeed a very ancient man, though very nattily dressed from +spotless collar to shiny patent leather shoes, a small, dandified, +bright-eyed man whose broken nose and battered features bore eloquent +testimony to long and hard usage. + +"'Ook it!" he croaked, with square bony jaw fiercely outthrust. "We +don't want no peanuts 'ere, d'j 'ear? 'Op off, 'ook it before I break +every blessed bone in yer bloomin' body!" + +"What, Old Un, don't you know me, either?" + +"Lumme!" exclaimed the little old man, blinking beneath hoary brows. +"Ho, lor' lumme, it's 'im! Blimy, it's the Guv'nor--'ow do, Guv!" and +shooting immaculate cuffs over bony wrists he extended a clawlike hand. + +"How are you, Old Un?" + +"Well, sir, what with the rheumatix an' a stiff j'int or two an' a touch +o' lumbager, not to mention all my other ailments, I ain't quite s' spry +as I was!" + +"But you look very well!" + +"That's where your heyes deceives you, Guv. A great sufferer I be, +though patient under haffliction, ho, yus--except for a swear now an' +then which do me a power o' good--yus! If I was to tell you all the woes +as my poor old carkiss is hair to, you could write a book on 'em--a big +'un. I got everything the matter wi' me, I 'ave, from a thick ear an' +broke nose as I took in Brummagem sixty an' five years ago to a hactive +liver." + +"A what?" enquired Ravenslee. + +"A hactive liver. Lord, Guv, my liver gets that hactive lately as I +can't set still--Joe knows, ax Joe! All as I ain't got o' human woes is +toothache, not 'avin' no teeth to ache, y' see, an' them s' rotten as it +'ud make yer 'eart bleed. An' then I get took short o' breath--look at +me now, dang it!" + +"Why, then, sit down, Old Un," said Ravenslee, drawing up a somewhat +worn armchair. "Joe and I are going at it hard and fast this afternoon, +and I want you to time the rounds." And he proceeded to remove his +garments. + +"Oh, j'y!" cried the Old Un, hugging himself in bony arms. "Oh, j'yful +words. Ah, but you peels like a good un, sir," he croaked, viewing white +flesh and bulging muscle with knowing old eyes, "good an' long in the +arm an' wide slope o' shoulder. You might ha' done well in the ring if +you'd been blessed wi' poverty an' I'd 'ad the 'andling of ye--a world's +unbeat champion, like Joe. A good fighter were I an' a wonnerful +trainer! Ho, yus, I might ha' made a top-notcher of ye if you 'adn't +been cursed wi' money." + +"I suppose," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "I suppose Joe was one of the +best all-round fighting men that ever climbed into a ring?" + +"Ah--that 'e were! Joe were better 'n the best--only don't let 'im +'ear me say so, 'e 'd be that puffed up--Lord! But nobody could beat +Joe--black, yaller or white; they all tried danged 'ard, but Joe were a +world-beater--y' see, I trained Joe! An' to-day 'e 's as good as ever 'e +was. Y' see, Joe's allus lived clean, sir, consequent Joe's sound, +wind an' limb. Joe could go back an' beat all these fancy bruisers and +stringy young champs to-day--if 'e only would--but don't let 'im 'ear me +say so." + +"You're fond of Joe, Old Un?" + +"An' why for not, sir--s' long as 'e don't know it? Didn't 'e look arter +poor old me when 'e 'ad money, an' when 'e lost everything, didn't 'e +look arter me still? An' now 'e 's your shuvver, don' 'e keep a roof +over me poor old 'ead like a son--don't 'e give me the run o' jour +garridge an' let me watch 'im spar wi' you an' your gentlemen friends? +Ain't 'e the best an' truest-'earted man as ever drawed breath? Ah, a +king o' men is Joe, in the ring an' out, sir--only never let 'im 'ear me +say so--'e 'd be that proud, Lord! there'd be no livin' wi' 'im--sh, +'ere 'e be, sir." + +Joe had laid by his chauffeur's garb and looked even bigger and grimmer +in flannels and sweater. + +"Ho you, Joe," cried the old man, scowling, "did ye bring me that +'bacca?" + +"S'posin' I didn't?" demanded Joe. + +"Then dang ye--twice!" + +"An' s'posin' I did?" + +"Then--give it 'ere!" + +"An' that's his gratitood, sir!" growled Joe, shaking his head and +giving the packet into the old man's clutching fingers. "A unnat'ral old +bag-o'-bones, that's what 'e is, sir!" + +"Bones!" croaked the Old Un viciously. "Bag-o'-bones am I? Yah--look at +ye'self--pork, that's what you are, all run to pork an' blubber an' fat, +Joe, me pore lad--" + +"Fat!" growled Joe. "Y' know I ain't fat; y' know I'm as good a man as +ever I was--look at that, you old sarpent!" And he smote himself with +mighty fist--a blow to fell an ox. "Fat, am I?" + +"As--lard!" nodded the old man, filling half an inch of blackened clay +pipe with trembling fingers, "as a 'og--" + +"Now my crumbs--" began Joe fiercely. + +"You're flabby an' soft, me pore lad," grinned the old man. "Flabby as a +babby an' soft as a woman an' fat as a--" + +Joe reached out very suddenly, and picking up the old man, armchair and +all, shook him to and fro until he croaked for mercy. + +"Lor' gorramighty!" he panted, as Joe set him down again. + +"Fat, am I?" demanded Joe, scowling. + +"Fat as a 'og--fat as forty bloomin' 'ogs!" cried the old man +vindictively. "An' what's more, your wind's all gone--you couldn't go +five rounds wi' a good 'un!" + +"Couldn't I?" + +"No!" shrieked the Old Un, "you'd be 'anging on an' blowing like a +grampus!" + +"Should I?" + +"Ah--like a grampus!" + +"Right-o!" nodded Joe, turning away, "no jam for _your_ tea to-night." + +"Eh, what--what, would ye rob a pore old man of 'is jam, Joe--a pore +afflicted old cove as is dependent on ye 'and an' fut, Joe--a pore old +gaffer as you've just shook up to that degree as 'is pore old liver is +a-bobbin' about in 'is innards like a jelly. Joe, ye couldn't be so +'eartless!" + +"Ah, but I can!" nodded Joe. "An' if ye give me any more lip, it'll be +no sugar in ye tea--" + +"No sugar!" wailed the Old Un, then clenching a trembling old fist, he +shook it in Joe's scowling face. "Then dang ye--three times!" he cried. +"What's the old song say? + +"'Dang the man with three times three + Who in 'is 'eathen rage + Can 'arm a 'armless man like me + Who's 'ead is bowed wi' age!' + +"An' there's for ye. Now listen again: + +"'Some men is this an' some is that, + But 'ere's a truth I know: + A fightin' cove who's run to fat + Is bound t' puff an' blow!' + +"An' there's for ye again!" + +Saying which, the Old Un nodded ferociously and proceeded to light his +fragmentary pipe. During this colloquy Ravenslee had laid by his shabby +clothes and now appeared clad and shod for the ring. + +"Sir," said Joe, taking a set of gloves from a locker, "if you are ready +to box a round or so--" + +"Why, no," answered Ravenslee, "I don't want to box to-day, Joe." + +"Eh?" said Joe, staring, "not?" + +"I want to fight, Joe." + +"To--fight, sir?" repeated Joe. + +"Fight?" cried the Old Un rapturously. "Oh, music--sweet music t' me old +ears! Fight? Oh, j'yful words! What's the old song say? + +"''Appy is the first as goes + To black a eye or punch a nose!'" + +"Get the mufflers on, Joe; get 'em on an' don't stand staring like a +fool!" + +"But, sir," said Joe, his mild eyes kindling, "d' ye mean as you +want--the real thing?" + +"To-day," said Ravenslee, "instead of boxing a round or two with Joe +Madden, my chauffeur and mechanic, I want to see how long I can stand up +to Joe Madden, undefeated champion of the world." + +Joe's lean cheek flushed and he looked Ravenslee over with eyes of +yearning; noted the thin flanks and slender legs that showed speed, the +breadth of shoulder and long arms that spoke strength, and the deep, +arched chest that showed endurance; Joe looked and sighed and shook his +head. + +"Sir," said he, "I honour and respect you to that degree as it would be +a joy to fight such a man as you and a rare privilege t' knock you +down--but, sir, if I was to knock ye down--" + +"You'd earn a five-dollar bill." + +"Five dollars--for knockin' you down, sir?" + +"Every time!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"But Lord, sir--" + +"Shut up, Joe, shut up," snarled the Old Un, hopping out of the +armchair. "Don't gape like a perishin' fish; come on up-stairs an' knock +the Guv'nor down like 'e tells ye--an' 'arves on the money, mind; it was +me as taught ye all you know or ever will, so 'arves on the money, Joe, +'arves on the money. Come on, Joe--d'j 'ear?" + +"Crumbs!" said Joe. + +"Look at 'im. Guv--look at 'im!" shrieked the old man, dancing to and +fro in his impatience, "'ere's a chance for 'im to earn a pore old cove +a bit o' 'bacca money, an', what's better still, t' show a pore old +fightin' man a bit o' real sport--an' there 'e stands, staring like a +perishing pork pig! Blimy, Guv, get behind an' 'elp me to shove 'im +up-stairs." + +"But, crikey, sir!" said Joe, "five dollars every time I--" + +"Yus, yus, you bloomin' hadjective--two dollars fifty for each of us! +'Urry up, oh, 'urry up afore 'e changes 'is mind an' begins to 'edge." + +So Joe follows his "Guv'nor" and the Old Un up a flight of stairs and +into a large chamber fitted as a gymnasium, where are four roped and +padded posts socketed into the floor; close by is a high-backed armchair +in which the Old Un seats himself with an air of heavy portent. + +But when Joe would have ducked under the ropes, the Old Un stayed him +with an imperious gesture, and, clambering into the ring, advanced to +the centre and bowed gravely as if to a countless multitude. + +"Gentlemen," he piped in his shrill old voice, "I take pleasure to +introduce Joe Madden, undefeated 'eavyweight champion o' the world, an' +the Guv--both members of this club an' both trained by me, Jack Bowser, +once lightweight champion of England an' hall the Americas. Gentlemen, +it will be a fight to a finish--Markis o' Queensberry rules. +Gentlemen--I thank ye." Having said which, the Old Un bowed again, +gravely stepped from the ring, and ensconcing himself in the armchair, +drew out a large and highly ornate watch, while Ravenslee and Joe +vaulted over the ropes. + +Behold them facing each other, the brown-skinned fighting man wise in +ringcraft and champion of a hundred fights, and the white-fleshed +athlete, each alike clean and bright of eye, light-poised of foot, +quivering for swift action, while the Old Un looks needfully from one to +the other, watch in one bony hand, the other upraised. + +"Get ready!" he croaked. "Go!" + +Comes immediately a quick, light tread of rubber-soled feet and the +flash of white arms as they circle about and about, feinting, watchful +and wary. Twice Ravenslee's fist shoots out and twice is blocked by +Joe's open glove, and once he ducks a vicious swing and lands a half-arm +jolt that makes Joe grin and stagger, whereat the Old Un, standing upon +his chair, hugs himself in an ecstasy, and forgetful of such small +matters as five-dollar bills, urges, prays, beseeches, and implores the +Guv to "wallop the blighter on the p'int, to stab 'im on the mark, and +to jolt 'im in the kidney-pit." + +"Go it, Guv!" he shrieked, "go it! In an' out again, that's +it--Gorramighty, I never see sich speed. Oh, keep at 'im, Guv--make 'im +cover up--sock it into 'im, Guv! Ho, lumme, what footwork--you're as +quick as lightweights--oh, 'appy, 'appy day! Go to it, both on ye!" + +And "to it" they went, with jabs and jolts, hooks and swings, with +cunning feints and lightning counters until the place echoed and +reechoed to the swift tramp of feet and dull thudding of blows, while +the Old Un, hugging himself in long, bony arms, chuckled and choked and +rocked himself to and fro in an ecstasy; moreover, when Joe, uttering a +grunt, reeled back against the ropes, the Old Un must needs shriek and +dance and crow with delight until, bethinking him of his duty, he +checked his excitement, seated himself in the armchair again, and +announced: "Time! End o' round one." + +And it is to be noticed that as they sit down to take their two minutes' +rest, neither Ravenslee nor Joe, for all their exertions, seem unduly +distressed in their breathing. + +"Sir," says Joe, looking his pupil over, "you're uncommon quick on your +pins; never knowed a quicker--did you, Old Un?" + +"No, me lad--never in all me days!" + +"An' you've sure-ly got a punch, sir. Ain't 'e, Old Un?" + +"Like a perishin' triphammer!" nodded the Old Un. "Likewise, sir, you've +a wonderful judgment o' distance--but, sir, you need experience!" + +"That's what I'm after, Joe." + +"And you take too many chances; you ain't larned caution yet." + +"That you must teach me, Joe." + +"Which I surely will, sir. In the next round, subject to no objection, I +propose to knock ye down, sir." + +"Which means two dollars fifty for each on us, Joe--mind that," added +the Old Un. + +"So fight more cautious, sir, do," pleaded Joe, "and--look out." + +"Time!" croaked the Old Un. "Round two! And Guv, look out for yer p'int, +cover yer mark, an' keep a heye on yer kidney-pit!" + +Once again they faced each other, but this time it was Joe who circled +quick and catlike, massive shoulders bowed, knees bent, craggy chin grim +and firm-set, but blue eyes serene and mild as ever. A moment's silent +sparring, a quick tread of feet, and Joe feints Ravenslee into an +opening, swings for his chin, misses by an inch, and ducking a vicious +counter, drives home a smashing body-blow and, staggering weakly, +Ravenslee goes down full length. + +"Shook ye up a bit, sir?" enquired Joe, running up with hands +outstretched, "take a rest, now do, sir." + +"No, no," answered Ravenslee, springing to his feet, "the Old Un hasn't +called 'Time' yet." + +"Not me!" piped the old man, "not bloomin' likely! Go to it, both on +ye--mind, that's two-fifty for me, Joe!" + +What need is there to tell the numerous feints, the lightning shifts, +the different tricks of in-fighting and all the cunning strategy and +ringcraft that Joe brought to bear and carefully explained between +rounds? Suffice it that at the end of a certain fierce "mix up", as +Ravenslee sat outstretched and panting, the white flesh of arms and +broad chest discovered many livid marks and patches that told their +tale; also one elbow was grazed and bleeding, and one knee showed signs +of contact with the floor. + +"Joe," said he, when his wind was somewhat recovered, "that makes it +thirty dollars I owe you, I think?" + +"Why, sir," said Joe, who also showed some slight signs of wear, but +whose breathing was soft and regular, "why, sir, you couldn't call that +last one a real knockdown--" + +"You 'm a liar, Joe, a liar!" cried the Old Un. "Blimy, Guv, Joe's +a-tellin' you crackers, s' help me--your 'ands touched the floor, didn't +they?" + +"And my knees, too," nodded Ravenslee, "also my elbow--no, that was last +time or the time before." + +"Well, then, tell this lying Joe-lad o' mine as 'e surely did knock ye +down. Lord, Joe!" cried the Old Un, waxing pathetic, "'ow can ye go +takin' money from a pore old cove like I be. Joe, I blushes for +ye--an'--Time, Time there, both on ye!" + +"But we don't want any more, do we, sir?" enquired Joe. + +"Why, yes, I think I can go another round or so." + +"There y' are, Joe, the Guv's surely a game cove. So get at it, me lad, +an' try an' knock it up to fifty dollars--'arves, Joe, mind!" + +"But, sir," began Joe, eyeing the livid blotches on Ravenslee's white +skin, "don't ye think--" + +"Time--oh, Time, Time!" shrieked the Old Un. Whereupon Ravenslee sprang +to the centre of the ring, and once again the air resounded with tramp +of feet and pant of breath. Twice Ravenslee staggers beneath Joe's +mighty left, but watchful ever and having learned much, Ravenslee keeps +away, biding his time--ducks a swing, sidesteps a drive, and blocking a +vicious hook--smacks home his long left to Joe's ribs, rocks him with a +swinging uppercut, drives in a lightning left and right, and Joe goes +down with a crash. + +Even while the Old Un stared in wide-eyed, gaping amaze, Joe was on his +feet again, serene and calm as ever, only his great chest laboured +somewhat, but Ravenslee shook his head. + +"I guess that'll be about enough, Joe," said he. + +"Guv," cried the Old Un, seizing Ravenslee's right hand, boxing glove +and all, and shaking it to and fro, "you're a credit to us, you do us +bloomin' proud--strike me pink, ye do! 'Ere 's Joe 'ammered you an' +'ammered you--look at your bloomin' chest--lumme! 'Ere 's Joe been +knockin' ye down an' knockin' ye down, an' you comin' up smilin' for +more an' gettin' it--'ere's Joe been a-poundin' of ye all over the ring, +yet you can finish strong an' speedy enough to put Joe down--blimy, Guv, +you're a wonder an' no error!" + +"I don't think Joe fought his hardest, Old Un." + +"If 'e didn't," cried the old man, "I'll punch 'im on the nose so 'e +won't never smell nothink no more." + +"Sir," said Joe, "in the first round p'raps I did go a bit easylike, but +arter that I came at you as 'ard an' 'eavy as I could. I 'it you where +an' 'ow I could, barrin' your face." + +"I hope I shall soon be good enough for you to go for my face as well, +Joe." + +"But, sir--if I give you a black eye--" + +"How will--say, ten dollars do?" + +"Ten dollars! For blacking your eye, sir?" + +"Lumme, Joe!" cried the Old Un, "get back into the ring and black 'em +both--" + +"Shut up!" said Joe, scowling down into the Old Un's eager face, "you +'eartless old bloodsucker, you!" + +"Bloodsucker!" screamed the old man, "w'ot, me? I'll punch you on the +ear-'ole, Joe, so's you never 'ear nothin' no more." + +"Are you on, Joe?" asked Ravenslee, while the Old Un, swearing softly, +unlaced his gloves. + +"But, crumbs, sir--axin' your pardon, things'll come a bit expensive, +won't they? Y' see--" + +"So much the better, ye blighted perisher!" snarled the Old Un, "an' +don't forget as the Guv owes you thirty dollars a'ready--an' 'arves, +mind." + +"Stow it, you old bag o' wickedness--" + +"Bag o'--" the Old Un let fall the boxing gloves and turning on Joe, +reached up and shook a feeble old fist under the champion's massive +chin. "Look at this, me lad--look at this!" he croaked. "Some day I +shall ketch you sich a perishin' punch as'll double ye up till kingdom +come, me lad, and--Lord, the Guv's countin' out our money--" + +"Thirty of 'em, Joe," said Ravenslee, holding out a wad of bills. + +"Why, sir," said Joe, backing away, "axing yer pardon, but I'd rayther +not--you give me such uncommon good wages, sir, and a bonus every race +we run, win or lose--so, sir, I--I'd rayther not--" + +"Not?" cried the Old Un, "not take money as is 'arf mine--Oh, kick 'im, +somebody--kick 'im! Pound 'im for a pigeon-'earted perishin' pork pig--" + +"That'll be no sugar in your tea t'night, old viciousness! But, sir, I'd +rayther not--" + +"Don't 'eed 'im, Guv--don't 'eed the flappin' flounder. If 'e wont +obleege ye in a little matter like thirty dollars, I will--I'll always +obleege you--" + +"That's enough from you, old tombstones." + +"Tombstones!" hissed the Old Un, scowling darkly and squaring his +trembling fists, "all right, me lad, 'ere 's where I ketch ye one as'll +flatten ye out till the day o' doom--" + +Hereupon Joe caught him above the elbows, and lifting him in mighty +hands that yet were gentle, seated the snarling old fellow in the +armchair. + +"Old Un," said he, shaking his finger, "if ye give me any more of +it--off t' bed I take ye without any tea at all!" The Old Un, cowering +beneath that portentous finger, swore plaintively and promptly subsided. + +"And now," said Ravenslee, thrusting the money into Joe's reluctant +hand, "when I make a bargain, I generally keep it. I wish all my money +had been spent to such good purpose." + +"What about me?" whined the old man humbly, "don't I get none, Joe-lad?" + +"Not a cent, you old rasper!" + +"Blimy, Guv, you won't forget a old cove as 'ud shed 'is best blood for +ye?" + +"The Guv'nor don't want yer blood, old skin-and-bones. And now, come on, +sir--" + +"Stay a minute, Joe, the Old Un generally keeps time for us when we spar +rounds." + +"That I do, Guv," cried the old man, "an' give ye advice worth its +weight in solid gold; you owe me a lot, s' 'elp me." + +"About how much?" + +"Well, Guv, I ain't got me ledger-book 'andy, but roughly speakin' I +should say about five or six 'undred dollars. But seein' you 's you an' +I'm me--a old man true-'earted as never crossed nobody--let's +say--fifteen dollars." + +"Why, you old--thievin'--vagabone!" gasped Joe, as Ravenslee gravely +handed over the money. + +"Vagabone yourself!" said the Old Un, counting the bills over in +trembling fingers. "The Guv wants a bath--take 'im away--'ook it, d'j +'ear?" + +"Has Patterson got everything ready, Joe?" enquired Ravenslee, taking up +his clothes. + +"No, sir," mumbled Joe, "but I'll have ye bath ready in a jiffy, sir." + +"But where's Patterson?" + +"Well, 'e--'e 's out, sir." + +"And the footmen?" + +"They're out, sir." + +"Oh! And the housekeeper--er--what's her name--Mrs. Smythe?" + +"Gone to call on her relations, sir." + +"Ah! And the maids?" + +"Mrs. Smythe give 'em leave of habsence, sir. Y' see, sir," said Joe +apologetically, "you're 'ere so seldom, sir." + +"My servants are not exactly--er--worked to death, Joe?" + +"No, sir." + +"Manage to look after themselves quite well?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"It seems I need some one to look after them--and me." + +"Yes, sir." + +"A woman, Joe--one I can trust and honour and--what d' ye think?" + +"I think--er--yes, sir." + +"Well--what do you suggest?" + +"Marry her, sir." + +"Joe, that's a great idea! Shake hands! I surely will marry her--at +once--if she'll have me." + +"She'll have you, sir." + +"Do you really think she will, Joe?" + +"I'm dead certain, sir." + +"Joe, shake again. I'll speak to her when she comes home. To-morrow's +Saturday, isn't it?" + +"As ever was, sir." + +"Then, Joe--wish me luck; I'll ask her--to-morrow!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +OF THE FIRST AND SECOND PERSONS, SINGULAR NUMBER + + +It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was making a pie and looking +uncommonly handsome about it and altogether feminine and adorable; at +least, so Ravenslee thought, as he watched her bending above the pastry +board, her round, white arms bared to each dimpled elbow, and the +rebellious curl wantoning at her temple as usual. + +"But why kidneys, my dear?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from the +potatoes she was peeling. "Kidneys is rose again; kidneys is always +risin', it seems to me. If you must have pie, why not good, plain +beefsteak? It's jest as fillin' an' cheaper, my dear--so why an' +wherefore kidneys?" + +"Arthur likes them, and he'll be hungry when he comes in--" + +"Hungry," snorted Mrs. Trapes, "that b'y's been hungry ever since he +drawed the breath o' life. How's he gettin' on with his new job?" + +"Oh, splendidly!" cried Hermione, flushing with sisterly pride, "they've +promised him a raise next month." + +"What, already?" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, cutting viciously into a potato. +"If he don't watch out, they'll be makin' him a partner next." + +"Oh, Ann, I wish you were not quite so--so hard on him!" sighed +Hermione. "Remember, he's only a boy!" + +"You were a woman at his age, earning enough t' keep ye both--but there! +I don't mean t' be hard, Hermy; anyway, a man's never much good till +he's growed up, and then only because some woman teaches him how t' be." + +"What do you say to that, Mr. Geoffrey?" enquired Hermione, pausing, +flour-dredger in hand, to glance at him slily under her brows. + +"I think Mrs. Trapes is a wonderful woman," he answered. + +"Ah, now, Mr. Geoffrey, quit y'r jollying," said Mrs. Trapes, smiling at +the potato. + +"Mrs. Trapes has taught me much wisdom already and, among other things, +that I shall never be or do anything worth the while without the aid of +a woman--" + +"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey, I never remember sayin' no sich thing!" + +"Not in so many words, perhaps, but you implied it, Mrs. Trapes." + +"H'm!" said Mrs. Trapes dubiously. + +"Consequently, I mean to ask that woman--on the very first opportunity, +Miss Hermione." Seeing that Hermione was silent, all her attention being +centred in the dough her white fists were kneading, Mrs. Trapes spoke +instead. + +"D' ye mean as you want some one t' look after you--to sew an' cook an' +wash an' sew buttons on for ye--I know the sort!" + +"I certainly do, and--" + +"Ah, it's a slave you want, Mr. Geoffrey, and peanut men don't have +slaves--not unless they marries 'em, and a woman as would marry a peanut +man has only herself t' blame--peanuts!" + +Hermione laughed, reached for the rolling-pin, and immediately fell to +work with it, her head stooped rather lower than was necessary. As for +Ravenslee, he lounged in his chair, watching the play of those round, +white arms. + +"But why the kidneys, Hermy? You've got to cut out luxuries now, my +dear--we all have, I guess; it'll be dry bread next, I reckon." + +"Why so?" enquired Ravenslee lazily. + +"Why?" cried Mrs. Trapes bitterly, "I'll tell you why--because me an' +Hermy an' every one else is bein' squeezed dry t' fill the pockets of a +thing as calls itself a man--a thievin' beast on two legs as is suckin' +our blood, gnawin' our flesh, grindin' the life out of us--a great fat +man as is treadin' us down under his great boots, down an' down to +slavery--death--an' worse--it's such men as him as keeps the flames of +hell goin'--fat frizzles well, an' so will Mulligan, I hope!" + +"Mulligan?" enquired Ravenslee. + +"He's raised the rents on us, Mr. Geoffrey," sighed Hermione. + +"Raised the rents?" said Ravenslee, forgetting to lounge. + +"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes grimly. "I guess he thinks we live too easy +an' luxoorious, so he's boosted it up a dollar per. A dollar a week +don't sound a whole lot, p'raps, but it sure takes some gettin'; folks +expects a deal o' scrubbin' an' sewin' an' slavin' for a dollar--yes, +sir." + +"We shall have to work a little harder, that's all, Ann dear." + +"Harder? I guess you work hard enough for two--an' who gets the benefit? +Why, Mulligan does. Oh, it's a great comfort t' remember the flames of +hell, sometimes. Lord, when I think how we have t' slave t' make enough +t' live--" + +"There are others worse than us, Ann." + +"Why, yes, there's poor Mrs. Finlay; she's got to go, an' her husband +paralysed! There's little Mrs. Bowker sewed herself pretty well blind t' +keep her home together--she's got to go. There's Mrs. Sims with all +those children, and the--but there, who cares for the likes o' them--who +cares, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? An' what might you be dreamin' over this time?" +she enquired, eyeing Ravenslee's long figure a little contemptuously, +for he had fallen to lounging again, sleepy eyes half closed. + +"I was thinking what a lot of interest we might find in this busy +world--if we only would take the trouble to look for it!" he answered. +"The fool who complains that his life is empty is blind and deaf +and--damnably thick--er--pardon me, I--er nearly got excited." + +"Excited?" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "I'd pay good money t' see you like +that!" + +"You see, I had an idea--a rather original idea!" + +"Then take care of it, Mr. Geoffrey; nurse it careful, and we'll have ye +doin' bigger things than push a peanut barrer--peanuts!" + +"Mrs. Trapes, I've got a stranglehold on that idea, for it is rather +brilliant." + +"There's that kettle b'ilin' at last, thank goodness!" sighed Mrs. +Trapes, crossing to the stove, "tea's a luxury, I suppose, but--oh, drat +Mulligan, anyway!" + +So Mrs. Trapes brewed the tea, while Ravenslee gazed at Hermione again, +at her shapely arms, her dimpled elbows, her preoccupied face--a face so +serenely, so utterly unaware of his regard, of course, until he chanced +to look away, and then--Hermione stole a glance at him. + +"There, my dear," said Mrs. Trapes after a while, "there's a cup o' tea +as _is_ a cup o' tea, brewed jest on the b'ile, in a hot pot, and drawed +to perfection! Set right down an' drink it, slow an' deliberate. Tea +ain't meant to be swallowed down careless, like a man does his beer! An' +why?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, as they sipped the fragrant beverage, all +three, "why ain't you out with your precious--peanuts, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +Ravenslee set down his cup and turned to Hermione. + +"Mrs. Trapes has told you, I think, that I am become--er--an itinerant +vendor of the ubiquitous peanut--" + +"Mr. Geoffrey!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, gulping a mouthful of hot tea and +blinking, "I never did! Never in all my days would I allow myself such +expressions--Mr. Geoffrey, I'm ashamed at you! An' that reminds me--it +was chicken fricassee, wasn't it? For your supper, I mean?" + +"I believe it was." + +"Then," said Mrs. Trapes, rising, "I'll go an' buy it. Was you wantin' +anything fetched, Hermy?" + +"If you wouldn't mind bringing a bunch of asparagus--" + +"Sparrergrass!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes in horror-struck tones, "why, it's +anywhere from thirty to sixty cents--" + +"But Arthur loves it, dear, and now that he's working so hard--" + +"Arthur likes!" cried Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Mr. Geoffrey, it's been +Arthur ever since he was born, an' her scrinchin' an' pinchin' herself +for the sake o' that b'y. O' course he likes sparrergrass--so do I--but +I make shift with pertatoes or cabbidge or carrots--an' so should he. +Come now, Hermy, you take a bunch o' carrots instead; carrots is healthy +an' cheap! Come now, is that sparrergrass to be carrots or not?" + +"Ann, that asparagus is to be--asparagus!" + +"Such wicked extravagance, an' all for that b'y. Hermy, I'm surprised at +ye!" + +For a long moment after Mrs. Trapes had departed there was silence, +while Ravenslee sat gazing where Hermione stood busy at her pastry +again. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," said she at last, "I want to thank you for watching over +my boy. Arthur told me how good you were to him while I was away. I want +you to know how grateful I am--" + +"What beautiful hands you have, Hermione--and I shall dream of your +arms." + +"My arms?" she repeated, staring. + +"They're so--smooth and white--" + +"Oh, that's flour!" said she, bending over the table. + +"And so--round--" + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey! Can't you find something else to talk about?" + +"Why, of course," he answered, "there are your feet, so slender and +shapely--" + +"In these frightful old shoes!" she added. + +"Worn out mostly in other peoples' service," he nodded. "God bless +them!" + +"They let the wet in horribly when it rains!" she sighed. + +"So heaven send us dry weather! Then there is your wonderful hair," he +continued, "so long and soft and--" + +"And all bunched up anyhow!" said she, touching the heavy, shining +braids with tentative fingers. "Please don't say any more, Mr. Geoffrey, +because I just know I look a sight--I feel it! And in this old gown +too--it's the one I keep to scrub the floors in--" + +"Scrub the floors?" he repeated. + +"Why, of course, floors must be scrubbed, and I've had plenty--oh, +plenty of experience--now what are you thinking?" + +"That a great many women might envy you that gown for the beauty that +goes with it. You are very beautiful, you know, Hermione." + +"And beauty in a woman is--everything, isn't it?" she said a little +bitterly and with head suddenly averted. + +"Have I offended you?" + +"No," she answered without looking around, "only sometimes you are so +very--personal." + +"Because the First and Second Persons Singular Number are the most +interesting persons in the world, and--Hermione, in all this big world +there is only one person I want. Could you ever learn to love a peanut +man?" + +"That would all depend--on the peanut man," she answered softly, "and +you--you don't talk or act a little bit like a real peanut man." + +"Well, could you stoop to love this peanut man just as he is, with all +his faults and failures, love him enough to trust yourself to his +keeping, to follow him into the unknown, to help him find that Beautiful +City of Perhaps--could you, Hermione?" As he ended he rose to his feet, +but swiftly, dexterously, she eluded him. + +"Wait!" she pleaded, facing him across the table, "I--I want to talk to +you--to ask you some questions, and I want you to be serious, please." + +"Solemn as sixty judges!" he nodded. + +"Well, first, Mr. Geoffrey--why do you pretend to sell peanuts?" + +"Pretend!" he repeated, trying to sound aggrieved. + +"Oh, I'm not blind, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"No, indeed--I think your eyes are the most beau--" + +"Oh, please, please be serious!" + +"As a dozen owls!" + +"I--I know," she went on quickly, "I'm sure you haven't always had to +live in such--such places as Mulligan's. I know you don't belong here as +I do. Is it necessity has driven you to live here or only--curiosity?" + +"Well--er--perhaps a little of both," he admitted. + +"Then you're not obliged to sell peanuts for a living?" + +"'Obliged' is scarcely the word, perhaps; let us call it a peanut +penchant, a hobby, a--" + +"You are not quite so--poverty-stricken as you pretend?" Her voice was +very soft and gentle, but she kept her head averted, also her foot was +tapping nervously in its worn shoe. + +"Oh, as to money," he answered, "I have enough for my simple needs, but +in every other sense I am a miserable pauper. You see, there are some +things no money can buy, and they are generally the best things of +life." + +"And so," said she, interrupting him gently, "you come here to +Mulligan's, you deceive every one into thinking you are very poor, you +make a pretence of selling peanuts and push a barrow through the +streets--why?" + +"First, because pushing a barrow is--er--very healthy exercise." + +"Yes, Mr. Geoffrey?" she said in the same soft voice. + +"And second," he continued, wishing he could see her face, "second, +because I find it--er, well--highly amusing." + +"Amusing!" she cried, turning suddenly, her eyes very bright and her +cheeks hot and anger-flushed. "Amusing!" she repeated, "ah, yes--that's +just it--it's all only a joke to you, to be done with when it grows +tiresome. But my life here--our life is very real--ah, terribly real, +and has been--sordid sometimes. What is only sport to you for a little +while is deadly earnest to me; you are only playing at poverty, but I +must live it--" + +"And thirdly," he continued gently, "because I love you, Hermione!" + +"Love me!" she repeated, shaking her head. "Ah, no, no--your world is +not my world nor ever could be." + +"Why, then, your world shall be mine." + +"Yes, but for how long?" she demanded feverishly. "I wonder how long you +could endure this world of mine? I have had to work and slave all my +life, but you--look at your hands, so white and well-cared for--yours +are not the hands of a worker!" + +"No, I'm afraid they're not!" he admitted a little ruefully. + +"Now look at mine--see my fingers all roughened by my needle." + +"Such busy, capable hands!" said he, drawing a pace nearer, "hands +always working for others, so strong to help the distressed. I love and +honour them more just because of those work-roughened fingers." As he +spoke he reached out very suddenly, and clasping those slender hands, +stooped and kissed them reverently. Now, glancing up, he beheld her red +lips quivering while her eyes were suffused all at once, as, drooping +her head, she strove to loose his hold. + +"Let me go!" she whispered, "I--I--ah, let me go!" + +"Hermione," he breathed, "oh, Hermione, how beautiful you are!" But at +this she cried out almost as if he had struck her and, wrenching her +hands free, covered her face. + +"Oh, God!--are all men the same?" + +"Hermione," he stammered, "Hermione--what do you mean?" + +"I mean," she answered, proud head up-flung, "there were always plenty +of men to tell me that--when I was an office scrubwoman. Well?" she +demanded fiercely, stung by something in his look, "what did you think +I'd been? When a girl is left alone with a baby brother to care for, +she can't wait and pick and choose work that is nice and ladylike; she +must take what comes along or starve--so I worked. I used to scrub +floors and stairs in an office building. I was very young then, and +Arthur hardly more than a baby, and it was either that or starvation +or--" she flushed painfully, but her blue eyes met his regard +unflinchingly; "anyway, I--preferred to be a scrubwoman. So now you know +what I mean by your world not being my world, and I--I guess you see +how--how impossible it all is." + +For a long moment was a silence wherein she stood turned from him, her +trembling fingers busily folding and refolding a pleat in her apron +while he stared down blindly at the floor. + +"So you preferred the slavery of scrubbing floors, did you, Hermione?" +he said at last. + +"Of course!" she answered, without turning or lifting her heavy head. + +"And that," said he, his voice as placid, as serenely unhurried as +usual, "and that is; just why all things are going to be possible to +us--yes, even turning my wasted years to profit. Oh, my Hermione, help +me to be worthy of you--teach me what a glorious thing life may be--" + +"I?" she said wonderingly, her drooping head still averted, "but I am--" + +"Just the one woman I want to be my own for ever and always, more--far +more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." + +"But," she whispered, "I am only--" + +"The best, the noblest I have ever known." + +"But a--scrubwoman!" + +"With dimples in her elbows, Hermione!" In one stride he was beside her, +and she, because of his light tone, must turn at last to glance up at +him half-fearfully; but those grey eyes were grave and reverent, the +hands stretched out to her were strangely unsteady, and when he spoke +again, his voice was placid no longer. + +"Dear," he said, leaning toward her, "from the very first I've been +dying to have you in my arms, but now I--I dare not touch you unless +you--will it so. Ah, don't--don't turn from me; let me have my +answer--look up, Hermione!" + +Slowly she obeyed, and beholding the shy languor of her eyes, the sweet +hurry of her breathing, and all the sighing, trembling loveliness of +her, he set his arms about her, drawing her close; and she, yielding to +those compelling arms, gave herself to the passion of his embrace. And +so he kissed her, her warm, soft-quivering mouth, her eyes, her silken +hair, until she sighed and struggled in his clasp. + +"My hair," she whispered, "see--it's all coming down!" + +"Well, let it--I'd love to see it so, Hermione." + +"Should you? Why then--let me go," she pleaded. + +Reluctantly he loosed her, and standing well beyond his reach, she shook +her shapely head, and down, down fell the heavy coils, past shoulder and +waist and hip, rippling in shining splendour to her knees. Then, while +he gazed spellbound by her loveliness she laughed a little unsteadily, +and flushing beneath his look, turned and fled from him to the door; +when he would have followed she stayed him. + +"Please," she said, tender-voiced, "I want to be alone--it is all so +wonderful, I want to be alone and--think." + +"I may see you again to-night, Hermione? Dear--I must." + +"Why, if you must," she said, "how can I--prevent you?" + +Then, all at once, her cool, soft arms were about his neck, had drawn +him down to meet her kiss, and--he was alone with the pastry board, the +rolling-pin and the flour-dredger--but he saw them all through a golden +glory, and when he somehow found himself out upon the dingy landing, the +glory was all about him still. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE MADE A DEAL IN REAL ESTATE + + +The morning sun blazed down, and Tenth Avenue was full of noise and dust +and heat; children screamed and played and fought together, carts +rumbled past, distant street cars clanged their bells, the sidewalks +were full of the stir and bustle of Saturday; but Ravenslee went his way +heedless of all this, even of the heat, for before his eyes was the +vision of a maid's shy loveliness, and he thrilled anew at the memory of +two warm lips. Thus he strode unheeding through the jostling throng at a +speed very different from his ordinary lounging gait. Very soon he came +to a small drug-store, weather-beaten and grimy of exterior but very +bright within, where everything seemed in a perpetual state of glitter, +from the multitudinous array of bottles and glassware upon the shelves +to the taps and knobs of the soda fountain. Yet nowhere was there +anything quite so bright as the shrewd, twinkling eyes of the little +grey-haired man who greeted Ravenslee with a cheery nod. + +"Hot enough?" he enquired. + +"Quite!" answered Ravenslee. + +"Goin' to be hotter." + +"Afraid so." + +"Rough on th' kiddies, an' ice goin' up. Which reminds me I sent on the +mixture you ordered for little Hazel Bowker." + +"Good," nodded Ravenslee. + +"And the pills to Mrs. Sims." + +"Good again." + +"An' the sleeping-draught for old Martin Finlay." + +"Good once more." + +"Won't last long, old Martin, I guess. Never been the same since little +Maggie drowned herself, poor child. What d'ye want this morning?" + +"First to pay for the medicine," said Ravenslee, laying a five-dollar +bill on the counter, "and then the use of your 'phone." + +"Right there," said the chemist, nodding toward a certain shady corner, +where, remote from all intruding bustle, was a telephone booth into +which Ravenslee stepped forthwith and where ensued the following +one-sided conversation: + +Ravenslee. "Hello!" + +Telephone. "Buzz!" + +Ravenslee. "Hello, Central, give me Thirty-three Wall, please." + +Telephone. "Ting-a-ling--buzz!" + +Ravenslee. "Damn this 'phone--what? No, I said Double-three +Wall." + +Telephone. "Buzz! Ting! Zut!" + +Ravenslee. "Sounded different, did it? Well, I want--" + +Telephone. "Buzz! Zut! Ting!" + +Ravenslee. "Thanks. Hello, that Thirty-three Wall? Dana and +Anderson's Office? Good! I want to speak with Mr. Anderson--say Mr. +Ravenslee." + +Telephone. "Zing!" + +Ravenslee. "Thanks. That you, Anderson?" + +Telephone. "Pang!" + +Ravenslee. "Thanks--very well! What the devil's wrong with this +instrument of torment--can you hear me?" + +Telephone. "Crack!" + +Ravenslee. "Good! Yes--that's better! Now listen; I want you to +do some business for me. No, I'm buying, not selling. I'm going into +real estate. What, a bad speculation? Well, anyway, I'm buying tenement +property in Tenth Avenue, known as Mulligan's, I believe. Oh, you've +heard of it, eh? Not in the market? Not for sale? Well, I'll buy it. Oh, +yes, you can--what d' you suppose is his figure? So much? Phew! Oh, +well, double it. No, I'm not mad, Anderson. No, nor drunk--I just happen +to want Mulligan's--and I'll have it. When can you put the deal through? +Oh, nonsense, make him sell at once--get him on the 'phone. Oh, yes, he +will, if you offer enough--Mulligan would sell his mother--at his own +price. You quite understand--at once, mind! All right, good-by. No, I'm +not mad--nor drunk, man; I haven't tasted a cocktail for a month. Eh--go +and get one? I will!" + +So saying, Ravenslee hung up the receiver and hastened out of the +stifling heat of the suffocating booth, mopping perspiring brow. + +"You look kinder warm!" ventured the chemist. + +"I feel it." + +"And it's going to be warmer. Try an ice-cream soda--healthy and +invigorating." + +"And better than any cocktail on such a day!" + +"I guess! Take one?" + +"Thank you, yes." + +So the bright-eyed chemist mixed the beverage and handed it over the +counter. + +"Chin-chin!" he nodded. + +"Twice," said Ravenslee, lifting the long glass. "To the Beautiful City +of Perhaps!" and he drank deep. + +"Say," said the chemist, staring, "that sounds t' me like a touch of the +sun. Try a bottle of my summer mixture, good for sunstroke, heat-bumps, +colic, spasms, and Hell's Kitchen generally--try a bottle?" + +"Thanks," said Ravenslee, "I will." And grimly pocketing the bottled +panacea, he stepped out into the hot and noisy avenue. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HOW SPIKE HEARKENED TO POISONOUS SUGGESTION AND SOAPY BEGAN TO WONDER + + +Spike was on his way from the office, very conscious of his new straw +hat and immaculate collar; his erstwhile shabby suit had been cleaned +and pressed by Hermione's skilled and loving fingers, hence Spike turned +now and then as he passed some shop window to observe the general effect +with furtive eye; and stimulated by his unwontedly smart appearance, he +whistled joyously as he betook himself homeward. Moreover in his breast +pocket was his pay envelope, not very bulky to be sure, wherein lay his +first week's wages, and as often as he turned to glance at the tilt of +the straw hat or heed the set of his tie, his hand must needs steal to +this envelope to make sure of its safety. His fingers were so employed +when he chanced to espy a certain article exposed for sale in an +adjacent shop window; whereupon, envelope in hand, he incontinent +entered and addressed the plump Semitic merchant in his usual easy +manner. + +"Greetings, Abe! I'll take one o' them hair-combs." + +"Hair-gombs?" nodded the merchant. "Vot kind?" + +"What kind? Why, the best you got." + +"Ve got 'em up to veefty dollars--" + +"Come off it, Cain, come off--I ain't purchasin' a diamond aigrette +to-day, it's a lady's hair-comb I want--good, but not too +flossy-lookin'--savvy that? This'll do, I guess--how much? Right there!" +said Spike, flicking a bill upon the counter. "That's it, stick it in a +box--oh, never mind th' wrappin's. S'long, Daniel!" + +With his purchase in his pocket, Spike strode out of the shop, +whistling cheerily, but the merry notes ended very suddenly as he dodged +back again, yet not quite quick enough, for a rough voice hailed him, +hoarse and jovial. + +"Why, hello, Kid, how goes it?" M'Ginnis's heavy hand descended on his +shrinking shoulder and next moment he was out on the sidewalk where +Soapy lounged, a smouldering cigarette pendent from his thin, pallid +lips as usual. And Soapy's eyes, so bright between their narrowed, puffy +lids, so old-seeming in the youthful oval of his pale face, were like +his cigarette, in that they smouldered also. + +"Holy smoke!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, surveying Spike up and down in mock +amazement, "this ain't you, Kid--no, this sure ain't you. Looks all t' +th' company-promoter, don't he, Soapy?" + +"'S' right, Kid, 's' right!" nodded the pallid youth, his smouldering +eyes always turning toward M'Ginnis. + +"Say, now, Bud, quit your kiddin'!" said Spike petulantly. + +"But, Gee whiz!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, tightening his grasp, "you sure are +some class, Kid, in that stiff collar an' sporty tie. How's the stock +market? Are ye a bull or a bear?" + +"Ah, cut it out, Bud!" cried the lad, writhing. + +"Right-o, Kid, right-o!" said M'Ginnis, loosing his hold. "You're comin' +over t' O'Rourke's t'night, of course?" + +"Why, no, Bud--I can't." + +"Oh, t' hell wid that--I got you all fixed up to go ten rounds wid Young +Alf, th' East Side Wonder--" + +"What?" exclaimed Spike, his eyes bright and eager, "you got me a match +wi' Young Alf? Say, Bud--you ain't stringing me, are ye?" + +"Not much. I told you I'd get ye a real chance--" + +"Why," cried Spike, "if I was t' lick Young Alf, I'd be in line t' meet +th' top-notchers!" + +"Sure--if you lick him!" nodded M'Ginnis grimly. + +"Say," said Spike, his face radiant, "I've just been waitin' an' +waitin' for a chance like this--a chance t' show you an' th' bunch I can +handle myself, an' now"--he stopped all at once, and shaking his head +gloomily, turned away. "I forgot, I--I can't, Bud." + +"Aw, what's bitin' ye?" + +"I can't come t'night." + +"Won't come, ye mean!" + +"Can't, Bud." + +"Why not?" + +"I promised Hermy t' quit fightin'--" + +"Is that all? Hermy don't have t' know nothin' about it. This is a swell +chance for ye, Kid, the best you'll ever get, so just skin over t'night +an' don't say nothin' t' nobody." + +"I--can't, Bud--that's sure." + +"Goin' t' give me d' throw-down, are ye?" + +"I don't mean it that ways, Bud, but I can't break my promise t' Hermy--" + +"She'd never know." + +"She'd find out some ways; she always does, and I can't lie t' her." + +"So you won't come, hey? We ain't classy enough for ye these days, hey? +I guess goin' to an office every day is one thing an' crackin' a +millionaire's crib's another." + +"Cheese it, Bud, cheese it!" gasped Spike, pale and trembling. + +"Right-o, Kid!" nodded M'Ginnis, "but I've been wantin' t' know how ye +made your get-away that night." + +"Oh, quit--quit talkin' of it!" Spike panted. "I--I want t' forget all +about it. I been tryin' t' think it never happened." + +"Ah, but you know it did," said M'Ginnis, "an' I know it, an' Soapy +knows it did--don't yer, Soapy?" + +"'S' right!" nodded Soapy, his voice soft, his eyes hard and malevolent. + +"So we kinder want t' know," continued M'Ginnis, heedless always of +those baleful watching eyes, "we just want t' get on t' how you--" + +"Oh, say--give it a rest!" cried Spike desperately. "Give it a rest, +can't ye?" + +"Why, then, Kid, what about comin' over t' O'Rourke's t'night?" + +Spike wrung his hands. "If Hermy finds out, she'll--cry, I guess--" + +"Hermy!" growled M'Ginnis, black brows fierce and scowling, "a hell of +a lot you care for Hermy, I--don't think!" + +"Say now, you Bud, whatcher mean?" demanded Spike, quivering with sudden +anger. + +"Just this, Kid--what kind of a brother are ye t' go lettin' that noo +pal o' yours--that guy you call Geoff--go sneaking round her morning, +noon, an' night?" + +"You cut that out, Bud M'Ginnis. Geoff don't! Geoff ain't that kind." + +"He don't, eh? Well, what about all this talk that's goin' on--about him +an' her, an' her an' him--eh?" + +"What talk?" demanded Spike, suddenly troubled. + +"Why, every one's beginnin' t' notice as they're always meetin' on th' +stairs--an' him goin' into her flat, an' them talkin' an' laughin' +together when you're out o' th' way--ah," growled M'Ginnis, between +grinding white teeth, "an' likely as not kissin' an' squeezin' in +corners--" + +"That's enough--that's enough!" cried the boy, fronting M'Ginnis, +fierce-eyed. "Nobody ain't goin' t' speak about Hermy that way." + +"Y' can't help it, Kid. Here's this guy Geoff, this pal o' yours--been +with her--in her flat with her, all th' mornin'--ain't he, Soapy?" + +"'S' right, Kid!" nodded that pallid individual, the smouldering +cigarette a-swing between pale lips; and, though he addressed Spike, his +furtive eyes, watching aslant between narrowed lids, glittered to behold +M'Ginnis's scowling brow; also the wolverine mouth curled faintly, so +that the pendulous cigarette stirred and quivered. + +"Oh, I'm handin' ye the straight goods, Kid," M'Ginnis went on. "I'm +puttin' ye wise because you're my pal, an' because I've known Hermy an' +been kind o' soft about her since we was kids." + +"Well, then, you know she--she ain't that sort," said Spike, his voice +quavering oddly. "So--don't you--say no more--see?" + +"All right, Kid, all right--only I don't like t' see this pal o' yours +gettin' in his dirty work behind your back. If anything happens--don't +blame me--" + +"What--what you tryin' t' tell me--you Bud?" questioned Spike, between +quivering lips. + +"I'm tellin' ye things are gettin' too warm--oh, Hermy ain't the icicle +she tries t' make out she is." + +"An' I'm tellin' you--you're a liar, Bud M'Ginnis--a dirty liar!" cried +the boy. + +M'Ginnis's bull neck swelled; between his thick, black brows a vein +swelled and pulsed. Viewing this, Soapy's glittering eyes blinked, and +the pendulous cigarette quivered faintly again. + +"Now by--" began M'Ginnis, lifting menacing fist; then his arm sank, and +he shook his big, handsome head. "Oh, pshaw!" he exclaimed, "I guess +you're all worked up, Kid, so I ain't takin' no notice. But savvy this, +Kid, if Hermy ain't goin' t' marry me on th' level, she ain't goin' t' +let this guy have her--the other way--not much! I guess you ain't +forgotten little Maggie Finlay? Well, watch out your pal Geoff don't +make Hermy go th' same." + +Uttering a wild, inarticulate cry, the lad sprang--to be caught in +M'Ginnis's powerful grasp, but, even so, his fist grazed M'Ginnis's +full-lipped mouth. For a moment Spike strove desperately to reach Bud's +grim-smiling face until, finding his efforts vain, he ceased all at +once, bowed his head upon his arms, and burst into a passion of bitter +sobbing; then, with an agile twist, he wrenched himself free, and +turning, sped away, heedless of his jaunty straw hat that had fallen and +lay upon the dusty sidewalk. Languidly Soapy stooped and picked it up. + +"His noo lid!" said he. "Only bought t'day, I reckon!" + +"Gee!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, staring after Spike's fleeing figure, already +far away, "he sure was some peevish!" + +"Some!" nodded Soapy. "If he'd happened t' have a gun handy, here's +where you'd have cashed in for good, I reckon. Yes, Bud, you'd be deader +'n' mutton!" sighed Soapy, turning Spike's hat around upon his finger. +"You'd be as dead as--little Maggie Finlay you was mentionin'!" + +M'Ginnis wheeled so suddenly upon the speaker that he took a long +step backward, but he still spun Spike's hat upon his finger, and the +pendulous cigarette quivered quite noticeably. "Aw, quit it, Bud, quit +it!" he sighed. "You know I ain't th' kind o' guy it's healthy to punch +around promiscuous." + +"You mean if he'd missed, there was you, eh?" + +"Well, I dunno, Bud, if it had been my sister--maybe--" + +"Oh, I know the sort o' dirty tyke you are, Soapy--but I'm awake--an' +I've got you, see? If anything was t' happen t' me, I've left +papers--proofs--'n' it 'ud be the chair for yours--savvy?" + +"Anyway, Bud, I--I haven't got a sister," said Soapy, juggling deftly +with the hat. "But there's one thing, Bud, th' guy who gets actin' Mr. +Freshy with Hermy is sure goin' to ante-up in kingdom come, if th' Kid's +around." + +"You're a dirty dog, Soapy, but you've got brains in your ugly dome, +I guess you're right about th' Kid, an' that gives me an almighty good +idea!" And M'Ginnis walked on awhile, deep in thought; and ever as he +went, so between those pale and puffy lids two malevolent eyes watched +and watched him. + +"No," sighed Soapy at last, sliding a long, pale hand into the pocket of +his smartly-tailored coat, "no, I ain't got a sister, Bud, but there was +little Maggie Finlay. I kind o' used t' think she was all t' th' harps +an' haloes. I used t' kind o' hope--but pshaw! she's dead--ain't she, +Bud?" + +"I guess so!" nodded M'Ginnis, yet deep in thought. + +"An' buried--ain't she, Bud?" + +"What th' hell!" exclaimed Bud, turning to stare, "what's bitin' ye?" + +"I'm wonderin' 'why', an' I'm likewise wonderin' 'who', Bud. Maybe I'll +find out for sure some day. I'm--waitin', Bud, waitin'. Goin' around t' +O'Rourke's, are ye? Oh, well, I guess I'll hike along wid ye, Bud." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +IN WHICH THE POISON BEGINS TO WORK + + +Spike sat glowering at the newspaper, yet very conscious, none the less, +that Hermione often turned to glance at him wistfully as she bustled to +and fro; at last she spoke. + +"Arthur, dear--why so gloomy?" + +"I ain't--I mean, I'm not." + +"You're not sulking about anything?" + +"No." + +"Then you're sick." + +"I'm all right." + +"But you didn't enjoy your dinner a little bit." + +"I--I wasn't hungry, I guess," said Spike, frowning down at the paper. +But Hermione was beside him, her cool fingers caressing his curls. + +"Boy, dear--what is it?" + +"Say, Hermy, where'd you get them roses?" and he nodded to the flowers +she had set among her shining hair. + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey brought them." + +"Been here, has he?" + +"Yes, he came in with Ann this morning--why?" + +"Did he--did he stay long?" + +"N-o, I don't think so--why?" + +"Comes round here pretty often, don't he?" + +"Why, you see, he's your friend, dear, and we are very near neighbours." + +"Oh, I know all that, but--folks are beginning to--talk." + +Hermione's smooth brows were wrinkled faintly and her caressing hand had +fallen away. + +"To talk!" she repeated, "you mean about--me?" + +"Yes!" nodded Spike, avoiding her eyes, "about you and--him!" + +"Well--let them!" she answered gently, "you and Ann are all I care +about, so let them talk." + +"But I--I don't like folks t' talk about my sister, an' it's got t' +stop. You got t' tell him so, or else I will. What's he got t' go buying +ye flowers for, anyway?" + +Hermione's black brows knit in a sudden frown. "Arthur, don't be silly!" + +"Oh, I know you think I'm only a kid--but I ain't--I'm not. If you can't +take care of--of yourself, I must and--" + +"Arthur--stop!" + +"Well, but what's he always crawlin' around here for?" + +"He doesn't crawl--he couldn't," she cried in sudden anger; then in +gentler tones, "I don't think you'd better say any more, or maybe I +shall grow angry. If you have grown to think so--so badly of him, +remember I'm your sister." + +"But you're a girl, an' he's a man an'--" + +"Stop it!" Hermione stamped her foot, and meeting her flashing glance, +Spike wilted and--stopped it. So, while he glowered at the paper again, +Hermione put away the dinner things, making more clatter about it than +was usual, and turning now and then to glance at him from under her long +lashes. + +"Where did you meet M'Ginnis as you came home, Arthur?" + +"At the corner of--say, who told you I met him?" + +"You did." + +"I never said a word about meetin' him." + +"No, but you've been telling me what he told you. Only M'Ginnis could be +vile enough to dare say such things about me. Oh, Arthur, for shame--how +can you listen to that brute beast--for shame!" + +Now, meeting the virginal purity of those eyes, Spike felt his cheeks +burn, and he wriggled in his chair. + +"Bud only told me Geoff had been--been here," he stammered, "and I +guess it was the truth--I--I mean--" + +"Oh, boy, for shame!" and turning about, she swept from the room, her +head carried very high, leaving him crouched in his chair, his nervous +fingers twisting and turning a small box in his pocket--the box that +held the forgotten hair-comb. He was still sitting miserably thus when +he heard a knock on the outer door and a moment later a woman's voice, +querulous and high-pitched. + +"Oh, Miss Hermy, my Martin's very bad t'night, an' I got t' go out, an' +I can't leave him alone; would ye mind comin' down an' sittin' with him +for a bit?" + +"Why, of course I will." + +"Y' see, since he had th' stroke, he's sorrered for our little +Maggie--he was hard on her, y' see, an' since she--she died--he's been +grievin' for her. Had himself laid in her little room--seemed to comfort +him somehow. But to-day, when he heard we had to leave because th' rent +was rose, it nigh broke his poor heart. An' I got to go out, an' I can't +leave him alone, so--if y' wouldn't mind, Miss Hermy--" + +"Just a moment--I'll come right now." As she spoke, Hermione reentered +the kitchen, untying her apron as she came. Spike sat watching, waiting, +yearning for a word, but without even a glance Hermione turned and left +him. When he was alone, he started to his feet and tearing the box from +his pocket dashed it fiercely to the floor; then as suddenly picked it +up, and approaching the open window, drew back his hand to hurl it out +and so stood, staring into the face that had risen to view beyond the +window ledge, a round face with two very round eyes, a round button of +a nose, and a wide mouth just now up-curving in a grin. + +"Hey, you, Larry, what you hangin' around here for?" demanded Spike, +slipping the box into his pocket again. "What you doin' on our fire +escape, hey?" + +"Brought back yer roof!" replied the lad. + +"Well, where is it?" + +"Here it is." And climbing astride the window sill, Larry handed in the +jaunty straw. + +"Where'd you find it?" + +"Bud give it me, 'n' say--" + +"All right," nodded Spike, dusting the straw tenderly with a +handkerchief. "Now git, I wanter be alone." + +"But, say, Kid, Bud says I was ter say as he's sorry for what he said, +'n' say, he says you'd better be gettin' over t' O'Rourke's, 'n' say--" + +"I ain't comin'!" + +"But say, you're t' fight Young Alf, 'n' say--" + +"I ain't comin'!" + +"But say, dere's a lot of our money on ye--I got two plunks meself, 'n' +say, you just gotter fight anyway. Bud says so--" + +"I can't help what Bud says; I ain't comin'." + +"Not comin'!" exclaimed Larry, his eyes rounder than ever. + +"No!" + +Larry's wide mouth curved in a slow grin, and he nodded his +close-cropped head; said he: + +"Say, Kiddo, you know Young Alf's a punishin' fighter, I guess; you know +as nobody's never stopped him yet, don't yer; you know as you're givin' +him six pounds--say, you ain't--scared, are ye?" + +"Scared?" repeated Spike, frowning. "Do I look like I was scared? You +know there ain't any guy I'm scared of--but I promised Hermy--" + +"Pip-pip!" grinned Larry. "Say, if you don't turn up t'night, d'ye know +what d' bunch'll say? Dey'll say you're a--quitter!" + +"Well, don't you say it, that's all!" said Spike, laying aside his hat +and clenching his fists. + +"Not me!" grinned Larry. "There'll be plenty to do that, I guess--dey'd +call it after ye in d' streets--dey'll give ye th' ha! ha! Dey'll say +Hermy Chesterton's brother's a quitter--a quitter!" + +For a long moment Spike stood with bent head and hands tightly +clenched, then crossing to the sideboard, he picked up his shabby cap. + +"Who's in my corner?" + +"Now you're talkin', Kiddo; I know as you--" + +"Who's in my corner?" + +"Bud an' Lefty, 'n' say, I guess they can handle you all right, eh? 'N' +say, come on, let's cop a sneak before any one butts in--d' fire escape +for ours, eh?" + +"Sure!" said Spike, climbing through the window. "Oh, there ain't nobody +goin' t' call Hermy Chesterton's brother a quitter." + +"You bet there ain't!" grinned Larry, "come on, Kid!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +OF AN EXPEDITION BY NIGHT + + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, what you settin' here in the dark for?" + +"Is it dark, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"My land! Can't you see as it's too dark t' see, and--oh, shucks, Mr. +Geoffrey!" + +"Certainly, Mrs. Trapes! But can't you see that the whole world--my +world, anyway--is full of a refulgent glory, a magic light where nothing +mean or sordid can possibly be, a light that my eyes never saw till now +nor hoped to see, a radiance that may never fail, I hope--a--er--" + +"Oh, go on, Mr. Geoffrey, go on. Only I guess I'll light the gas jest +the same, if you don't mind!" Which Mrs. Trapes did forthwith. "But what +was you a-doin' of all alone in the dark?" + +"Glorying in life, Mrs. Trapes, and praising the good God for health and +strength to enjoy it and the fulness thereof--" + +"'Fulness thereof' meanin' jest what, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +"The most beautiful thing in a beautiful world, Mrs. Trapes." + +"An' that's Hermy, I s'pose. An' all that talk o' glory an' radiance an' +magic light means as you've been an' spoke, I guess?" + +"It does." + +"An' what did she say?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothin'?" + +"Not with her lips, but--" + +"Oh--her eyes, was it? Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell you what--a girl may +look 'yes' with her eyes a whole week an' say 'no' with her mouth jest +once and mean 'no'--when it's to a peanut man--Lordy Lord! what's that?" +And Mrs. Trapes jumped as a hand rapped softly on the door, and stared +horrified to see a human head protrude itself into the room while a +voice said: + +"Da Signorina she out, so me come tell-a you piece-a-da-noos--" + +"Why, if it ain't that blessed guinney! Go away--what d'ye want?" + +Hereupon Tony flashed his white teeth, and opening the door, bowed with +his inimitable grace, grew solemn, tapped his nose, winked knowingly, +and laid finger to lip. + +"My land!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring. "What's the matter with the +Eyetalian iji't now?" + +"Spike--he go make-a-da-fight!" whispered Tony hoarsely. + +"Eh--Arthur fightin'--where?" + +"He go make-a-da-box--he drink-a-da-booze, den he walk-a--so! Den da +Signorina she-a-cry--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "you mean as that b'y's off boxin' again?" + +"Si, si--he go make-a-da-box-fight." + +"Is he over at O'Rourke's, Tony?" enquired Ravenslee, sitting upright. + +"I bet-a-my-life, yes--" + +"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clasping bony hands. "If they +bring him home drunk like they did last time!" + +"They shan't do that, Mrs. Trapes. Don't worry, I'll go and fetch him," +said Ravenslee, getting to his feet. + +"Fetch him? From O'Rourke's? Are ye crazy? You'd get half-killed like as +not. Oh, they're a bad, ugly lot down there!" + +"I feel rather ugly myself," said Ravenslee, looking around for the +shabby hat; "anyway, I'm going to see." + +"Why, then, if you're goin' t' venture among that lot, you take this +with ye, Mr. Geoffrey," and she thrust the poker into his hand. "You'll +sure need it--ah, do now!" But Ravenslee laughed and set it aside. +"You'd better take it, Mr. Geoffrey; fists is fists, but gimme a +poker--every time! A poker ain't t' be sneezed at! What, goin'--an' +empty-'anded? Mr. Geoffrey, I'm surprised at you. Think of Hermy!" + +"That's just what I am doing." + +"Well, s'posin' they hurt you! What'll Hermy do?" + +"You think she'd mind, then, though I'm--only a peanut man?" + +"Even a peanut man's a feller creatur, ain't he--an' Hermy's 'eart is +very tender an'--oh, shucks, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess you know she'd jest +be crazy if you was hurt bad!" + +"Why, then," said Ravenslee, smiling and taking up the battered hat, +"I'll take great care of myself--trust me!" + +"Then good-by, Mr. Geoffrey, good-by and--the good Lord go with you." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee and followed Tony out upon the +stair. Upon one of the many landings the young Italian paused. + +"Me put-a-you wise, Geoff; you savvy where-a to find Spike, now me go +back t' my lil Pietro, yes. S' long, pal, 'n' good-a luck!" + +Ravenslee hastened on down-stairs, returning neighbourly nods and +greetings as he went, but staying for none, and so, crossing the court, +turned into the avenue. On the corner he beheld the Spider, hard at work +on his eternal chewing gum, cap drawn low and hands in pockets. Seeing +Ravenslee, he nodded and lurched forward. + +"What's doin', Geoff?" he enquired. + +"I'm off to O'Rourke's--coming?" + +"Not much! An' say, 't ain't worth your trouble--I ain't fightin'. +Nawthin' but a lot o' fifth-raters." + +"I'm going over to fetch Spike." + +"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, his square jaws immobile from sheer +astonishment. "Say, you ain't crazy, are ye--I mean you ain't dippy or +cracked in the dome, are ye? Because d' Kid's goin' ten rounds with +Young Alf, d' East Side Wonder, t'night, see?" + +"Not if I can help it, Spider." + +"Aw--come off, bo! D'ye think Bud'll let him go?" + +"I shan't ask Bud--or any one else." + +"Meanin' as you'll walk right in on Bud's tough bunch an' cop out d' Kid +on y'r lonesome--eh?" + +"I shall try." + +"Then you sure are crazy; if y'r dome ain't cracked yet, it's sure goin' +t' be. Why, Bud 'n' his crowd'll soak you good 'n' plenty 'n' chuck ye +out again quicker'n ye went in. They will sure, bo--if you go--" + +"I'm wondering if you'll come along and help?" said Ravenslee lazily. + +"Me? Not so's you could notice it. I ain't huntin' that sort o' trouble." + +"Oh, well, if you think you'd--er--better not, I'll go alone." + +"What, yer goin', are ye?" + +"Of course! You see, Spike is my friend; consequently his trouble +is my trouble. Good night, Spider, and whatever else you do, be sure +to--er--take good care of yourself!" And Ravenslee smiled and turned +away; but he had not gone six paces before the Spider was at his elbow. + +"Say, bo," said he, "I don't like the way you smile, but you talk so +soft an' pretty, I guess I'll jest have t' come along t' gather up what +they leave of ye." + +"Spider," said Ravenslee, "shake!" The Spider obeyed, somewhat +shamefacedly to be sure. + +"It looks like two domes bein' cracked 'stead o' one, an' all along o' +that fool-kid!" Having said which, he lurched on beside Ravenslee, +chewing voraciously. + +"How you goin' t' work it?" he enquired suddenly. + +"I don't know yet." + +"Hully Chee! You've sure gotcher nerve along. There's some o' the +toughest guys in little Manhattan Village at O'Rourke's dump t'night, +keepin' th' ring an' fair achin' for trouble." + +"We must dodge 'em, Spider." + +"S'pose we can't?" + +"Then we must trust our luck, and I've got a hunch we shall get Spike +away somehow before Mr. Flowers dopes him or makes him drunk; anyway +we'll try. The dressing rooms are behind the annex, aren't they?" + +"Know the place, do ye?" + +"I've looked it over. We can get in behind the annex, can't we?" + +"In?" repeated the Spider, smiling grimly. "Oh, we'll get in all right; +what gets my goat is how we're goin' t' get out again. You sure are a +bird for takin' chances, Geoff." + +"Life is made up of chances, Spider, and there are two kinds of +men--those who take them joyfully and those who don't." + +"Well, say, you can scratch me on the joyful business. I'm th' guy as +only takes chances he's paid t' take." + +"How much are you getting on this job, Spider?" + +"Oh--well--I mean--say, what's th' time, bo?" + +"Five minutes after eight--why?" + +"I guess d' Kid's in th' ring, then. There's a full card t'night, an' +he's scheduled for eight sharp, so I reckon he's fightin' now--an' good +luck to him!" By this time they had reached that dark and quiet +neighbourhood where stood O'Rourke's saloon. But to-night the big annex +glared with light, and the air about it was full of a dull, hoarse, +insistent clamour that swelled all at once to a chorus of discordant +shrieks and frenzied cries. + +"Ah!" quoth the Spider sagely, "hark to 'em howl! That means some guy's +gettin' his, alright. Listen to 'em; they love t' get blood for their +entrance money, an' they're sure gettin' it. Some one's bein' knocked +out--come on!" + +It was a dark night, for there was no moon and the stars were hidden; +thus, as Ravenslee followed the Spider, he found himself stumbling over +the uneven ground of a vacant lot, a lonely place beyond which lay the +distant river. At last they reached various outbuildings, looming up +ugly and ungainly in the dimness. + +"Say, bo," said the Spider, stopping suddenly at a small and narrow +door, "you'd best wait here and lemme go first." + +"No, we'll go together." + +"Right-o, only be ready to make a quick get-away!" + +So saying, the Spider opened the door and, closely followed by +Ravenslee, stepped into a dimly-lit passage thick with the blue vapour +of cigars and cigarettes. It was a long, narrow corridor, bare and +uncarpeted, seeming to run the length of the building; on one hand was +a row of dingy windows and on the other were several doors, from behind +which came the sound of many voices that talked and sang and swore +together, a very babel. + +At the end of this passage was yet another door which gave upon a small +room that contained a rickety sofa, a chair, and a battered desk; a +kerosene lamp suspended against the wall burned dimly, and it was into +this chamber that the Spider ushered Ravenslee somewhat hastily; the +Spider's eyes were very bright, and he chewed rather more fiercely than +usual. + +"Bo," said he, "this place ain't exactly a bed o' roses for a strange +guy like you. Y' see, this is Bud's own stampin'-ground, an' the whole +bunch is here t'night, and most of 'em are heeled. Soapy an' Bud always +tote guns, I know. So I guess you'd better mark time here a bit while I +chase around an' locate th' Kid. If any one asks what you're doin' +around here, say as you come in with me. But, bo"--and here the Spider +laid an impressive hand on Ravenslee's arm--"if you should happen t' see +Bud, well, don't stop to look twice but beat it--let it be th' door or +winder for yours--only--beat it!" + +"Oh, why?" + +"Well, I know Bud's got it in fer you; I heard him say--oh, well, if +his gun should go off--accidental-like, this place ain't exactly +Broadway or Fifth Av'noo, bo--see?" + +"I see!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"Hold on!" said Spider, and crossing to the window, he unlatched it +stealthily and lifted it high, "if I ain't back inside of ten minutes, +bo, nip out through here and hike; wait for me at the lamp-post across +the lot over there--it'll be safer. D'ye get me?" + +"I do!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"I guess you'd be less of a fool if you was to get out now an' +wait--outside!" Spider suggested. + +Ravenslee shook his head. + +"I'll wait here," said he, "there are times when I can be as big a fool +as the next, Spider, and this is one of them." + +"That's so!" nodded the Spider, and chewing viciously, he turned and was +gone, to be hailed a few minutes later in uproarious greeting by many +discordant voices which died slowly to a droning hum above which came +sounds more distant, shouts and cheers from the auditorium. + +Left alone, Ravenslee looked about him, and then espied a newspaper that +lay upon the desk. Idly taking it up, his gaze was attracted by these +words, printed in large black letters: + +NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL RUN TO EARTH JACOB HEINE THE GUN-MAN ARRESTED IN +JERSEY CITY + +Below in small type he read this: + +Jacob Heine, believed to be the perpetrator of several mysterious +shooting affrays, and member of a dangerous West Side gang, was +arrested to-day. + +The light being dim, Ravenslee drew closer to the lamp, and standing +thus against the light, his face was in shadow--also his long figure +was silhouetted upon the opposite wall, plain to be seen by any one +opening the door. Suddenly, as he stood with head bent above the paper, +this door opened suddenly, and M'Ginnis entered; he also held a paper, +and now he spoke without troubling to lift his scowling gaze from the +printed column he was scanning: + +"That you, Lefty? Here's a hell of a mix-up--that dog-gone fool Heine's +got himself pinched--and in Jersey City too! I told him t' stay around +here till things was quiet! It's goin' t' be a hell of a job t' fix +things for him over there--'t ain't like N' York. But we got t' fix +things for him or chance him squealing on th' rest of us, but what beats +me is--" + +M'Ginnis's teeth clicked together, and the paper tore suddenly between +his hands as, glancing up at last, he beheld two keen, grey eyes that +watched him and a mouth, grim and close-lipped, that curled in the smile +Spider didn't like. + +For a long, tense moment they stood motionless, eye to eye, then, +reaching behind him, M'Ginnis locked the door, and drawing out the key, +thrust it into his pocket. + +"So--I got ye at last--have I?" said he slowly. + +"And I've got you," said Ravenslee pleasantly; "we seem to have got each +other, don't we?" + +"See here, you," said M'Ginnis, his massive shoulders squared, his big +chin viciously outthrust, "you're goin' t' leave Mulligan's, see?" + +"Am I?" said Ravenslee, lounging upon a corner of the battered desk. + +"You sure are," nodded M'Ginnis. "Hell's Kitchen ain't big enough for +you an' me, I guess; you're goin' because I say so, an' you're goin' +t'night!" + +"You surprise me!" said Ravenslee sleepily. + +"You're goin' t' quit Hell's Kitchen for good and--you ain't comin' +back!" + +"You amaze me!" and Ravenslee yawned behind his hand. + +"An' now you're goin' t' listen why an' wherefore--if you can keep +awake a minute!" + +"I'll try, Mr. Flowers, I'll try." + +M'Ginnis thrust clenched hands into his pockets and surveyed Ravenslee +with scornful eyes--his lounging figure and stooping shoulders, his +long, white hands and general listless air. + +"God!" he exclaimed, "that she should trouble t' look twice at such a +nancy-boy!" and he spat, loud and contemptuously. + +"Almost think you're trying to be rude, Mr. Flowers." + +"Aw--I couldn't be, to a--thing like you! An' see here--me name's +M'Ginnis!" + +"But then," sighed Ravenslee, "I prefer to call you Flowers--a fair name +for a foul thing--" + +M'Ginnis made a swift step forward and halted, hard-breathing and +menacing. + +"How much?" he demanded. + +"Fair name for a very foul thing, Mr. Flowers," repeated Ravenslee, +glancing up at him from under slumberous, drooping lids--"anyway, +Flowers you will remain!" + +As they stared again, eye to eye, M'Ginnis edged nearer and nearer, head +thrust forward, until Ravenslee could see the cords that writhed and +swelled in his big throat, and he hitched forward a languid shoulder. +"Don't come any nearer, Flowers," said he, "and don't stick out your jaw +like that--don't do it; I might be tempted to try to--er--hit it!" + +"What--you?" said M'Ginnis, and laughed hoarsely, while Ravenslee yawned +again. + +"An' now, Mr. Butt-in, if you're still awake--listen here. I guess it's +about time you stopped foolin' around Hermy Chesterton--an' you're goin' +t' quit--see!" Ravenslee's eyes flashed suddenly, then drooped as +M'Ginnis continued: "So you're goin' t' sit down right here, an' you're +goin' t' write a nice little note of farewell, an' you're goin' t' tell +her as you love her an' leave her because I say so--see? Ah!" he cried, +suddenly hoarse and anger-choked, "d' ye think I'll let Hermy look at a +thing like you--do ye?--do ye?" and he waited. Ravenslee sat utterly +still, and when at last he spoke his voice sounded even more gentle than +before. + +"My good Flowers, there is just one thing you shall not do, and that is, +speak her name in my hearing. You're not fit to, and, Mr. Flowers, I'll +not permit it." + +"Is that so?" snarled M'Ginnis, "well, then, listen some more. I know as +you're always hangin' around her flat, and if Hermy don't care about +losing her good name--" + +Even as Ravenslee's long arm shot out, M'Ginnis side-stepped the blow, +and Ravenslee found himself staring into the muzzle of a revolver. + +"Ah--I thought so!" he breathed, and shrank away. + +"Kind of alters things, don't it?" enquired M'Ginnis, hoarse and +jeering. "Well, if you don't want it to go off, sit down an' write Hermy +as pretty a little note as you can--no, shut that window first." + +Silent and speechless, Ravenslee crossed to the window and drew down the +sash, in doing which he noticed a dark something that crouched beneath +the sill. + +"An' now," said M'Ginnis, leaning against a corner of the desk, "sit +down here, nice an' close, an' write that letter--there's pen an' ink +an' paper--an' quick about it or by--" + +M'Ginnis sprang up and turned as the glass of the window splintered to +fragments, and, almost with the crash, Ravenslee leapt--a fierce twist, +a vicious wrench, and the deadly weapon had changed hands. + +"Lucky it didn't go off," said Ravenslee, smiling grimly at the revolver +he held, "others might have heard, and, Mr. Flowers, I want to be alone +with you just a little longer. Of course, I might shoot you for the +murderous beast you are, or I might walk you over to the nearest police +depot for the crook I think you are--but--oh, well, of late I've been +yearning to get my hands on you and so"--Ravenslee turned and pitched +the revolver through the broken window. But, almost as the weapon left +his hand, M'Ginnis was upon him, and, reeling from the blow, Ravenslee +staggered blindly across the room, till stayed by the wall, and sank +there, crouched and groaning, his face hidden in his hands. + +With a cry hoarse and fierce, M'Ginnis followed and stooped, eager to +make an end--stooped to be met by two fierce hands, sure hands and +strong, that grasped his silken neckerchief as this crouching figure +rose suddenly erect. So for a wild, panting moment they grappled, +swaying grimly to and fro, while ever the silken neckerchief was twisted +tight and tighter. Choking now, M'Ginnis felt fingers on his naked +throat, iron fingers that clutched cruelly, and in this painful grip was +whirled, choking, against the wall and thence borne down and down. And +now M'Ginnis, lying helpless across his opponent's knee, stared up into +a face pale but grimly joyous, lips that curled back from gnashing white +teeth--eyes that glared merciless. So Ravenslee bent M'Ginnis back +across his knee and choked him there awhile, then suddenly relaxed his +hold and let M'Ginnis sink, gasping, to the floor. + +"A little--rough, Mr. Flowers," he panted, "a trifle--rough with you--I +fear--but I want you--to know that you--shall not utter--her name--in my +presence. Now the key--I prefer door to window--the key, Mr. +Flowers--ah, here it is!" So saying, Ravenslee stood upright, and wiping +blood and sweat from him with his sleeve, turned to the door. "One other +thing, Mr. Flowers; have the goodness to take off your neckerchief next +time, or I--may strangle you outright." + +Halfway down the passage Ravenslee turned to see Murder close on his +heels. Once he smote and twice, but nothing might stay that bull-like +rush and, locked in a desperate clinch, he was borne back and back, +their trampling lost in the universal din about them, as reeling, +staggering, they crashed out through wrecked and splintered door and, +still locked together, were swallowed in the night beyond. + +Thus the Spider, crouching in the dark beneath the broken window with +Spike beside him, was presently aware of the sickening sounds of furious +struggling close at hand, and of a hoarse, panting voice that cursed in +fierce triumph--a voice that ended all at once in a ghastly strangling +choke; and recognising this voice, the Spider hunched his great +shoulders and bore Spike to a remote spot where stood a solitary +lamp-post. Here he waited, calm-eyed and chewing placidly, one arm about +the fretful Spike. + +Presently Ravenslee joined them; the shabby hat was gone, and there was +a smear of blood upon his cheek, also he laboured in his breathing, but +his eyes were joyous. + +"Bo, what about Bud?" + +"Oh, he's lying around somewhere." + +"Hully Chee--d' ye mean--" + +"He tried gouging first, but I expected that; then he tried to throttle +me, but I throttled a little harder. He's an ugly customer, as you said, +but"--Ravenslee laughed and glanced at his bloody knuckles--"I don't +think he'll be keen to rough it with me again just yet." + +"Bo, I guess you can be pretty ugly too--say, when you laugh that way I +feel--kind of sorry for Bud." + +"Why, what's wrong with Spike?" + +"Dunno--I guess they've been slinging dope into him. And he's copped it +pretty bad from Young Alf too--look at that eye!" + +"Spike!" said Ravenslee, shaking him, "Spike, what is it? Buck up, old +fellow!" But Spike only stared dazedly and moaned. + +"It's dope all right," nodded the Spider, "or else Bud's mixed th' +drinks on him." + +"Damn him!" said Ravenslee softly. "I wish I'd throttled a little +harder!" + +"I guess you give Bud all he needs for the present," said Spider grimly, +"anyway, I'm goin' t' see. The Kid ain't hurt none. Get him home t' bed, +an' he'll be all right s'long, long, Geoff." + +"Good night, Spider, and--thank you. Oh, by the way, who's Heine?" + +"Heine's a Deutscher, Geoff. Heine's about as clean as dirt an' as +straight as a corkscrew; why, he'd shoot his own mother if y' paid him, +like he did--but say, what d' you know about him, anyway?" + +"Well, for one thing, I know he's been arrested in Jersey City--" + +"Heine? Pinched? Say, bo, what yer givin' us--who says so?" + +"Bud, and--" + +But the Spider, waiting for no more, had turned about and was running +back across the open lot. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW M'GINNIS THREATENED AND--WENT + + +"Mr. Geoffrey, prayer is a wonderful prop to a anxious 'eart!" said Mrs. +Trapes, leaning over the banisters to greet him as he ascended. "Mr. +Geoffrey, my hands has been lifted in prayer for ye this night as so did +me behoove, and here you are safe back with--that b'y. A prayer prayed +proper, and prayed by them as ain't plaguein' the Lord constant about +their souls an' other diseases, is always dooly regarded. Yes, sir, a +occasional petition is always heard and worketh wonders as the--my land, +Mr. Geoffrey, look at your face!" + +"I know, Mrs. Trapes. Has she come in yet?" + +"Not yet--an' glad I am. You're all bleedin'--stoop your head a +bit--there!" and very tenderly she staunched the cut below the curly +hair with an apron clean and spotless as usual. "And the b'y--lord, +what's come to him?" + +"A black eye--two, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I'll look after him and get him +into bed before she comes; can you keep her away till I've done so?" + +"I'll try. Poor lad!" she sighed, touching Spike's drooping head with +bony fingers, "if she wasn't his sister, I'd be sorry for him!" + +So Ravenslee took Spike in hand, bathing his bruised and battered +features and setting ice water to his puffy lips, which the lad gulped +thirstily. Thereafter he revived quickly but grew only the more morose +and sulky. + +"All right," he muttered, "I'll go t' bed, only--leave me, see!" + +"Can't I help you?" + +"No--you lemme alone. Oh, I know--you think I'm soused, but I ain't; +I--I'm not drunk, I tell ye--I wish I was. I ain't no kid, so lemme +alone--an' I ain't drunk. What if me legs is shaky? So 'ud yours be if +you'd got--what I got. It was dat last swing t' d' jaw as done me--but +I ain't drunk 'n' I ain't a kid t' be undressed--so chase ye'self an' +lemme alone!" + +"All right, Spike--only get to bed like a good chap before your sister +comes." + +"You leave my sister alone; she ain't--that kind, an' she ain't fer you, +anyway." + +"That will do, Arthur--get into bed! I'll give you five minutes!" So +saying, Ravenslee turned away, but, as he closed the door, his quick ear +detected the clink of glass, and turning, he saw Spike draw a small +flask from his pocket. + +"Give me that stuff, old fellow." + +"Oh, you can't con me! I ain't a kid, so you lemme alone!" and Spike +raised the flask to his lips, but in that instant it was snatched away. +Spike staggered back to the wall and leaned there, passing his hand to +and fro across his brow as though dazed, then stumbled out into the room +beyond. + +"Gimme it, Geoff, gimme it!" he panted, "you won't keep it, no, no--Bud +slipped it to me after I come to. Gimme it, Geoff. I want t' forget--so +be a sport an' give it me--you will, won't ye?" + +Ravenslee shook his head, whereat the boy broke out more passionately: + +"Oh--don't ye see, Geoff--can't ye understand? I--I was knocked out +t'night--I took th' count! I--I'm done for, I had me chance, an' I +didn't make good! I--didn't--make good!" As he spoke, the lad hid his +bruised face within his hands, while great sobs shook him. + +"Why, Spike! Why, Arthur, old chap--never mind--" + +"Gimme th' bottle, Geoff! Be a pal an' gimme th' stuff--I want t' +forget!" + +"This wouldn't help you." + +"Give it me, d' ye hear--I want it--I'll have it, anyway--I'll--" +Spike's voice failed, and cowering back, he sank into a chair at sight +of her who stood within the doorway so very silent and pale of lip. + +"Ah, don't, Hermy--don't look at me like that," he whispered. "Your eyes +hurt me! I ain't drunk--this time!" + +"Oh, boy!" she sighed, "oh, boy--after all your promises!" + +Spike rose with hands stretched out appealingly, but even so, he swayed +slightly, and seeing this, she shivered. + +"Is it th' fightin' you mean, Hermy? Why, I did it all for you, Hermy, +all for you--I wanted t' be a champion 'cause all champions are rich. +I wanted t' make you a real lady--t' take you away from Mulligan's--but +now--I'm only--a 'has-been.' I've lost me chance--oh, Hermy, I'm done +for; I--oh, Geoff, I--think I'll--go to bed." + +So Ravenslee set down the flask, and, clasping an arm about Spike's +swaying form, led him from the room, while Hermione stood rigid and +watched them go. But when the door had closed behind them, she bowed her +head upon her hands and sobbed miserably, until, spying the half-emptied +flask through her tears, she sprang forward, and snatching it from the +table, dashed it passionately to the floor. + +"Oh, dear God of Heaven!" she whispered, sinking to her knees, "not that +way--ah, save him from that--keep him from treading that path!" With +head bowed upon her folded hands she knelt thus awhile until a sound in +the passage aroused her, and rising to her feet, she turned and +confronted Bud M'Ginnis. + +He stood upon the threshold, and though his glowing, eager eyes dwelt +yearningly upon her beauty, he made no motion to enter the room. Upon +one cheek the skin was torn and grazed from nose to ear, and upon his +powerful throat were vivid marks that showed fierce and red, and these +seemed to worry him, for even while he stared upon her loveliness, his +hand stole up to his neck, and he touched these glowing blotches gently +with his fingers. + +"God, Hermy," said he at last, "you get more beautiful every day!" + +She was silent, but reading the fierce scorn in her eyes, he laughed +softly and leaned nearer. "Some day, Hermy, you'll be--all mine! Oh, I +can wait; there's others, an' you're worth waitin' for, I guess. But +some day you'll come t' me--you shall--you must! Meantime there's +others, but some day it'll be you an' you only--when you're my wife. Ah, +marry me, Hermy; I could give you all you want, an' there'd never be any +one else for me--then!" + +Her eyes still met his unflinchingly, only she drew away from his +nearness, shivering a little; seeing which, he frowned and clenched one +hand, for the other had wandered up to his throat again. + +"Won't ye speak t' me?" he demanded savagely, then shrugging his great +shoulders, he continued in gentler tones: "I ain't here t' quarrel, +Hermy; I only came t' see if th' Kid got home all right." Hermione's +firm, red lips remained tightly closed. "Did he?" Hermione slowly +inclined her head. + +"Say now, Hermy," he went on, and his voice grew almost wheedling, +"there was a guy here the other night--a stranger, I guess--one o' these +tired, sleepy guys--one o' the reg'lar soft-talkin' nancy-boys--who is +he?" Hermione only sighed wearily, whereat his voice grew hoarse with +passion, and he questioned her fiercely: "Who is he, eh--who is he? What +was he doin' around here, anyway? Well, can't ye talk? Can't ye speak?" + +Hermione only looked at him, and before those calm, fearless eyes, +M'Ginnis burned in a wild yet impotent rage. + +"Won't talk, hey?" he questioned between grinding teeth. "Well, now, see +here, Hermy. If you let this guy come any love business with you behind +me back, it'll be his finish--an' he can blame you for it! An' see here +again--watch out for young Arthur. Oh!" he cried, seeing her flinch, +"you think you've got the Kid tied to ye, you think you've got him, I +guess--but you ain't! I've got him--right here!" and holding out his +hand, M'Ginnis slowly clenched it into a fist. "I've got th' Kid, +see--an' he's goin' th' way I want him--he's got to, see?" + +"Ah!" she cried, her scorn and fearless pride shattered to trembling +pleading at last. "What do you mean--oh, what do you mean?" + +"I mean as I want ye, an' I'm goin' to have ye!" he answered. "I mean +that instead of 'no' you're goin' t' give me 'yes'--for th' Kid's sake!" + +"What do you--mean?" she said again between quivering lips, her eyes +full of a growing terror. + +"Mean?" he continued relentlessly, viewing her trembling loveliness with +hungry eyes. "Well--that's what I mean!" and he pointed to the broken +flask upon the floor. "If you want t' see it in his face more an' more, +if you want t' smell it in his breath--say 'No!' If you want t' see his +hands begin t' shake, if you want t' hear his foot come stumbling up th' +stair--say 'No!' I guess you remember what it's like--you've seen it all +before. Well, if ye want Arthur t' grow into what his drunken father was +before him--say 'No!'" + +"Go away!" she moaned, "go away!" + +"Oh, I'll go, but first I'll tell you this--" + +"I think not, Mr. Flowers--no, I'm sure you won't!" + +Ravenslee's voice was soft and pleasant as usual, but before the burning +ferocity of his eyes, the merciless line of that grim, implacable mouth, +before all the hush and deadly purpose of him, the loud hectoring of +M'Ginnis seemed a thing of no account. Beholding his pale, set face +Hermione, sighing deeply, shrank away; even M'Ginnis blenched as, very +slowly, Ravenslee approached him, speaking softly the while. + +"Get out, Mr. Flowers, get out! Don't say another word--no, not one, if +only because of 'that dog-gone fool Heine!' Now go, or so help me God, +this time--I'll kill you!" + +Hermione leaned her trembling body against the table for support. And +yet--could it be fear that had waked this new glory in her eyes, had +brought this glowing colour to her cheek, had made her sweet breath pant +and hurry so--fear? + +M'Ginnis stood rigid, watching Ravenslee advance; suddenly he tried to +speak yet uttered no word; he raised a fumbling hand to his bruised and +swollen throat, striving again for speech but choked instead, and, +uttering a sound, hoarse and inarticulate, he swung upon his heel and +strode blindly away. + +Then Ravenslee turned to find Hermione sunk down beside the table, her +burning face hidden between her arms, her betraying eyes fast shut. + +"You are tired," he said gently, "that damned--er--I should say Mr. +Flowers and--other unpleasant things have upset you, haven't they?" + +Hermione made a motion of assent, and Ravenslee continued, softer than +before: + +"I wanted you to make up your mind to come away to-night, but--I can't +ask you now, can I? It--it wouldn't be--er--the thing, would it?" + +Hermione didn't answer or lift her head and, stooping above her, he saw +how she was trembling; but her eyes were still fast shut. + +"You--you're not afraid--of me, are you, Hermione?" + +"No." + +"And you're not--crying, are you?" + +"No." + +"Then I'd--better go, hadn't I? To Mrs. Trapes and supper--stewed beef, +I think, with--er--carrots and onions--" + +Her head was still bowed, and his tone was so light, his voice so lazy, +how was she to know that his hands were quivering or see how the passion +of his yearning was shaking him, fighting for utterance against his +iron will? How was she to know anything of all this until, swiftly, +lightly, he stooped and kissed the shining glory of her hair? In a while +she raised her head, but then--she was alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TELLS OF AN EARLY MORNING VISIT AND A WARNING + + +Ravenslee dreamed that he was in a wood--with Hermione, of course. She +came to him through the leafy twilight, all aglow with youth and love, +eager to give herself to his embrace. And from her eyes love looked at +him unashamed, love touched him in her soft caressing hands, came to him +in the passionate caress of her scarlet mouth, love cradled him in the +clasp of her white arms. And the sun, peeping down inquisitively through +the leaves, showed all the beauty of her and made a rippling splendour +of her hair. + +But now the woodpecker began a tap-tapping soft and insistent somewhere +out of sight, a small noise yet disturbing, that followed them +wheresoever they went. Thus they wandered, close entwined, but ever the +wood grew darker until they came at last to a mighty tree whose sombre, +far-flung branches shut out the kindly sun. And lo! within this gloom +the woodpecker was before them--a most persistent bird, this, +tap-tapping louder than ever, whereat Hermione, seized of sudden terror, +struggled in his embrace and, pointing upward, cried aloud, and was gone +from him. Then, looking where she had pointed, he beheld no woodpecker, +but the hated face of Bud M'Ginnis-- + +Ravenslee blinked drowsily at the wall where purple roses bloomed, at +the fly-blown text in the tarnished frame with its notable legend: + +LOVE ONE ANOTHER + +and sighed. But in his waking ears was the tap of the woodpecker, loud +and persistent as ever! Wherefore he started, stared, sat up suddenly +and, glancing toward the window, beheld a large cap and a pair of +shoulders he thought he recognised. + +"Why, Spider!" he exclaimed, "what the--" + +"Sufferin' Mike!" sighed the Spider plaintively, "here I've been +knockin' at your all-fired winder--knockin' an' knockin', an' here +you've been snorin' and snorin'." + +"No, did I snore, Spider?" + +"Bo, you sure are a bird for snorin'." + +"Damn it!" said Ravenslee, frowning, "I must break myself of it." + +"Thinkin' of gettin' married, bo?" + +"Married? What the--" + +"She'll soon get useter it, I guess--they all do!" said the unabashed +Spider. "Anyway, if you didn't snore exactly, you sure had a strangle +hold on the snooze business, all right. Here's me crawled out o' me +downy little cot t' put ye wise t' Bud's little game, an' here's you +diggin' into the feathers t' beat th' band!" + +"But the window was open; why didn't you come in right away?" + +"Not much, bo, I ain't the kind o' fool as makes a habit o' wakin' your +kind out o' their beauty sleep sudden, no more I ain't a guy as takes +liberties in strange bedrooms, see?" + +"Well, come in, Spider--sit on the bed; I haven't a chair to offer. By +the way, I have to thank you--" + +"Whaffor?" + +"Breaking that window--" + +"Oh, I guess it wasn't a bad wheeze." + +"It gave me the chance I wanted, Spider." + +"Which you sure gripped with both mitts, bo!" + +"Now have a cigar--in that coat pocket--" + +"Not me, Geoff! Smoke's bad for th' wind, that's why I've took t' gum." +Saying which, the Spider proceeded to take out and open a packet of that +necessary adjunct, and having posted it into his mouth piece by piece, +fell to grim mastication. + +"Bo," said he suddenly, "you come away without your roof last night." + +"Eh?" said Ravenslee, blinking drowsily, "my what?" + +"Your lid, bo." + +"You mean my old hat?" + +"That's what I'm tryin' t' tell you--an' say, that sure is the hardest +bean cover I ever spotted; made of iron, is it? Where'd you find it?" + +"At some dim and distant day it originated in England, I believe." + +"Well, that lid would turn a poleaxe, sure; that's why I brought it +back--it's out on the fire escape now." + +"Very kind of you, Spider, but--" + +"Bo, you're goin' t' need that hat an' a soot o' tin underwear from now +on unless--well, unless you pack y'r trunk an' clear out o' Hell's +Kitchen on th' jump." + +"Why so?" + +"Well, you certainly handed Bud a whole lot more 'n he's ever had +before, an' it's a full house to a pair o' dooces he ain't lookin' for +no more from you just yet. But then, Bud ain't no pet lamb nor yet a +peace conference, an' it's four aces to a bum-flush he means t' get back +at ye some way--an' get ye good!" + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee, yawning. + +"And oh some more!" nodded the Spider; "it's sure comin' t' you. When I +got back las' night, there's Bud settin' against th' wall lookin' like +an exhibit from the morgue, fightin' for breath t' cuss you with. 'N' +say, you sure had done him up some, which I wasn't nowise sad or peeved +about, no, sir! Me an' Bud's never been what you might call real +kittenish an' playful together. But it seems you ain't only soaked an' +throttled him good an' plenty, but he's gone an' let out t' you about +that guy Heine--an' consequently you've gotter be kept from opening y'r +mouth--see? Consequently it's you for a sudden an' hasty hike." + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee again. + +"Twice!" nodded the Spider, "with a F an' a L thrown in--that's what +you'll be, Geoff, if you try t' buck Bud an' th' gang. So here I've +shinnied up y'r fire escape to put ye wise an' lend a hand to make your +swift get-away." + +Ravenslee sighed and settled his head more comfortably on his pillow. +"You think I ought to go, Spider?" + +"I don't think--I know! Your number's up, Geoff--it's you against th' +field, an', bo--they're some field!" + +"You think there's real danger, then?" enquired Ravenslee, staring up at +the fly-blown text with shining eyes. + +"As real as--death, bo!" + +"Not so long ago I regarded Death as my best friend--" + +"How much?" demanded the Spider, suspending mastication. + +"Nothing, Spider, a mere passing thought." + +"Well, I'm tellin' ye they'll get ye sure--it'll be th' water or a +forty-four bullet, or a blackjack or a knife--but you'll get it one way +or another!" + +"Sounds cheering!" + +"An' it ain't over-pleasant t' be sandbagged." + +"No, Spider." + +"Nor t' feel a lead pipe wrapped round th' back o' y'r bean." + +"No indeed, Spider." + +"Nor yet t' feel a stiletta diggin' between y'r shoulders or over y'r +collar bone." + +"Worst of all, Spider." + +"Well, you'd best pack y'r little trunk an' fade away, bo!" Ravenslee +sat up suddenly and looked at the Spider with eyes very bright and wide. + +"Not for all the gangs that ever ganged!" said he softly. + +"Eh?" exclaimed the Spider, staring, "what's yer game?" + +"I'm going to try to buck this gang clean out of existence." + +"You are, eh?" + +"I am." + +"Bo," sighed the Spider, shaking his head, "you ain't a ordinary +fool--you're a damned fool!" + +"And you're going to help me, Spider!" + +"Not me, bo, not me--I'm only just an ordinary fool!" + +"Well, we'll let it go at that!" said Ravenslee, and lying back, he +yawned again. + +"Don't do that, bo, don't do that!" exclaimed the Spider. "I'm thinkin' +what you'll look like after you've been floatin' around in th' river--a +week, say! You'd best get out o' Hell's Kitchen, bo--don't stop to ask +where to, but--go there." + +"My Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "in Hell's Kitchen I +should have to leave all that makes life worth while, so--I shall stay, +of course, and chance the--er--river and things." + +"Well, I guess it's your trouble, not mine." + +"But I want it to be yours too, Spider. You see, I'm counting on you to +help me smash this gang." + +"Bo, it looks like you're goin' t' do a hell of a lot o' countin'--an' +then some more, before you count me in on this fool game. Say"--he +paused to stare at Ravenslee, keen-eyed and with jaws clamped +rigid--"you ain't a fly-cop--one o' these sleuthy gum-shoe men, are ye?" + +"No." + +"Well, you ain't one o' these fool amateur guys doin' the dare-devil +detective act like you read about in th' magazines, are ye?" + +"No more than you are one of these dirty gang loafers you hear about +around O'Rourke's--and that's why you're going to help me root 'em out." + +"Sufferin' Pete!" sighed the Spider, "here I keep tellin' you I ain't on +in this act, an' here you keep on ringin' me in frequent all the same." + +"Because you are a man, Spider Connolly, and white all through, and +because to smash up this gang is going to be man's work." + +"Well, it sure ain't no job for Sophy the Satin-skinned Show-girl--nor +yet for two nice, quiet little fellers like you an' me." + +"We shan't be quite alone, Spider." + +"That's some comfortin', anyway!" + +"There will be Joe Madden, for one." + +"Joe Mad--" The Spider very nearly bolted his wad of chewing gum, then +he rose and stood staring at Ravenslee, very round of eye. "So you know +Joe Madden, the best all-round champion that ever happened, eh?" + +"I box with him every day." + +"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, and chewed fervently in silent +astonishment. Suddenly he lifted his head and stood as one that hearkens +to distant sounds, and crossing stealthily to the window, climbed out. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Mother Trapes, bo. She's just rollin' out o' th' feathers, an' she's +quite enough for me--always has me fazed to a frazzle. If she caught me +here it 'ud be th' gimlet eye for mine--so here's where I fade away." + +"Anyway, come and have tea here with me to-night, Spider, unless +you think I am--er--too dangerous to visit just now on account of +M'Ginnis--" + +"Dangerous?" repeated the Spider, scowling, "bo, when I get a call t' +free food with a guy like you, danger gets lost in th' shuffle an' +forgotten--I'll be there. Now here's your bean cover--catch! S' long!" +And nodding, Spider promptly vanished down the fire escape. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CHIEFLY CONCERNING A LETTER + + +"Sunday," said Mrs. Trapes sententiously, "Sunday is a holy day t' some +folks an' a holiday for other folks, but t' folks like me an' Hermy it +sure ain't no day of rest an' gladness--like the hymn book says." + +"Isn't it?" said Ravenslee, pushing away his coffee cup and glancing +toward the loud-ticking clock upon the sideboard. + +"It sure ain't!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, quick to note the look. "Hermy an' +me ain't much given to Sunday observance, Mr. Geoffrey. Y' see, there's +always meals t' be cooked an' washin' up t' be done, an' clo'es t' be +mended p'raps. I've darned many a 'eartfelt prayer into a wore-out pair +o' stockin's before now an' offered up many a petition t' the Throne o' +grace with my scrubbin' brush sloshin' over the floor. Anyway, Hermy 'n' +me ain't never had much time for church-goin' or prayer meetin's or +mindin' our souls in our best frocks an' bonnets--no, sir! We jest have +t' get on with our work--sewin' an' cookin' an' washin'--mindin' the +welfare of other folks' bodies. So while them as has time an' +inclination sing their praises t' the Lord on their knees, Hermy an' me +take out our praises in work, an' have t' leave our souls t' God +an'--oh, well, I guess he'll take care of 'em all right--don't y' +think?" + +"I certainly do!" nodded Ravenslee. + +"O' course, my soul ain't all it should be--a bit stained here +an' there, p'raps--a bit th' worse for wear, Mr. Geoffrey, but +Hermy's--well, there, I guess it's jest as sweet as a flower still, an' +white--as white as that tablecloth. An' talkin' about her soul--what +about her body, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +Ravenslee started. "Her body?" said he, staring. "Well, since you ask, +I should say it is like her soul--very sweet and white and--" + +"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "but, bein' only flesh an' blood after +all--bein' only miserable clay like yours an' mine, Mr. Geoffrey, it'll +always need food t' nourish it, clo'es t' keep it warm, an' a roof t' +shelter it. Well, if she was t' be s' mad as t' marry a peanut man, what +about food an' clo'es an' a roof?" + +"I think they could be managed, Mrs. Trapes." + +"What--out o' peanuts?" + +"No--er--the fact is, I've given 'em up." + +Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Y' don't say!" she remarked drily. "Think o' that, +now!" + +"The fact is, Mrs. Trapes, I--well, suppose I were to confess to you +that I'm not quite so poor as I seem--what should you say?" + +"Why, I should say as I knew that about three weeks ago, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"Oh, did you?" said Ravenslee, staring. "How in the world did you find +out?" + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell ye how. I got eyes an' I got ears, an' +sometimes I can see a bit with my eyes an' hear with my ears--that's +how! Oh, I've watched ye, Mr. Geoffrey--I've watched ye careful +because--well, because I sure love Hermy, an' 't would jest break my +'eart t' see her fallin' in love with a rogue!" + +"So you think--that she is--falling in love, then?" enquired Ravenslee +slowly. + +"Well, Hermy's Hermy, an' she's wrote you two letters to my knowin'--" + +"No, only one, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Now Hermy ain't the kind o' girl t' write twice to a man unless--" + +"But she has only written me one letter, Mrs. Trapes--the one she left +with you last week." + +"Oh, well--here's the other!" said Mrs. Trapes, laying before him an +envelope addressed in the handwriting he had come to know so well. + +"Why didn't you give it to me before?" he enquired. + +"Her orders, Mr. Geoffrey." + +"Orders?" + +"Orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "She come in here last night an' give it +me after you was gone t' bed. 'Ann dear,' she says, 'don't let him have +it till half after ten t' morrer,' she says. An' it's nearly eleven +now--so there's y'r letter!" + +"But," said Ravenslee, "why on earth--" + +"P'raps th' letter'll tell you, Mr. Geoffrey; s'pose you read it while I +clear away your breakfast things!" + +Hereupon Ravenslee opened the letter and read these words: + +My dear, + +It would be my joy to trust myself to you utterly, to go with you to the +world's end if you would have it so. Only I'm afraid that I am not quite +what you would have me. I'm afraid that I might sometimes do things that +would remind you that I had been only a scrubwoman. I'm afraid that some +day you might regret. Were I to answer you now, I should answer you +selfishly--so, please, you must give me time to think, for both our +sakes. Love has never come near me before, and now I am a little afraid, +for love is not little and tender and babyish, but great and strong and +very fierce and masterful--that is why I am afraid of it. So I must go +away from you, from the sound of your voice, the touch of your hand--to +think it all out. My work will take me to Englewood to-morrow, and I want +you to wait for your answer until I come back, for then I shall have +decided one way or the other. But in Englewood the memory of your words +will be with me still--oh, did you mean all, quite all you said, and did +you say quite all you meant to say--did you? Did you? For indeed it has +seemed to me that if you really meant all you said you might have said a +little more--just a little more. This is a dreadfully long letter and +very badly expressed, I know, but I dare not read it through. But what +I have written is written from my heart. + +Hermione. + +P.S. I shall be in Englewood three whole days. + +"Will strawberry jam an' angel cake an' a bunch or so o' water cress be +enough, Mr. Geoffrey?" + +Ravenslee sat staring down at the letter, rubbing his square, +fresh-shaven chin as one very much at a loss. + +"'Might have said a little more--just a little more,'" he muttered, his +gaze focussed upon a certain line. + +"Will water cress an' angel cake an' a pot o' strawberry jam soot, Mr. +Geoffrey?" + +"Now I wonder what the dickens she can mean?" mused Ravenslee. + +"She means jest strawberry jam an' angel cake an' water cress, fer +tea--fer your visitors," said Mrs. Trapes, with a patient sigh. + +"Visitors!" repeated Ravenslee, glancing up. "Why, yes, they'll be here +about four o'clock." + +"An' will water cress an' angel cake an'--" + +"Quite enough! Certainly! Admirable!" exclaimed Ravenslee. "But what +beats me," he continued, staring down at the letter again, "is what she +can mean by writing this." + +"Not knowin' what she's wrote, I can't say." + +"Mrs. Trapes, I know you are Hermione's best and staunchest friend, and +lately I have ventured to hope you are mine too. As such, I want you to +read this letter--see if you can explain it!" + +So Mrs. Trapes took the letter; and when she had read it through, folded +it together with hands very gentle and reverent and stood awhile staring +out into the sunlit court. + +"My land!" she said at last, her harsh voice grown almost soft, "love's +a wonderful thing, I reckon. No wonder your eyes shine so. Yes, love's +a great an' wonderful thing--my land!" + +"But can you explain," said Ravenslee, as he took back the letter, "can +you tell me what she means by--" + +"Shucks, Mr. Geoffrey! That sure don't want no explainin'. When you said +all you did say to her, did y' say anything about 'wife' or 'marriage'?" + +"Why, of course I did!" + +"Sure?" + +"Yes--er--that is--I think so." + +"Not sure then?" + +"Well, I may have done so--I must have done so, but really +I--er--forget--" + +"Forget!" Mrs. Trapes snorted. "Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, what d' +ye want with Hermy; is it a wife you're after or only--" + +"Mrs. Trapes!" Ravenslee was upon his feet, and before the sudden glare +in his eyes Mrs. Trapes gaped and for once fell silent. "Mrs. Trapes," +said he, still frowning a little, "really you--you almost--made me +angry." + +"My land!" said she, "I'm kind o' glad I didn't--quite!" and her sniff +was eloquent. + +"You see," he went on, glancing down at the letter again, "I've learned +to love and reverence her so much that your suggestion--hurt rather!" + +"Why, then, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm sorry. But if your love is so big an' true +as all that--if you want her t' be a wife t' you--why in the 'tarnal +didn't ye speak out an' tell her so?" + +"I'll go and tell her so this minute." + +"Y' can't! She's gone t' Bronx Park with that b'y, 'n' won't be back +all day." + +"Damn!" exclaimed Ravenslee. + +"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Keep on, it'll do ye good. But anyway, what +y' got t' say'll keep, I guess--it'll gush out all the stronger fer +bein' bottled up a day or two." + +"I can write!" he suggested. + +"You can--but you won't--you'll tell her with your two lips--a woman +likes it better spoke--if spoke proper--I should! With arms entwined an' +eyes lookin' into eyes an'--oh, shucks! Will angel cake an' strawberry +jam--" + +"They'll be ample, and--thank you, dear Mrs. Trapes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HOW THE OLD UN AND CERTAIN OTHERS HAD TEA + + +"Old Un," said Joe, halting his aged companion in the middle of the +second flight to wag a portentous finger, "Old Un, mind this now--if +there should 'appen to be cake for tea, don't go makin' a ancient beast +of yourself with it--no slippin' lumps of it into your pocket on the +sly, mind, because if I ketch ye at it--" + +"Don't be 'arsh, Joe, don't be 'arsh! Cake comes soft t' me pore old +teef." + +"An' mind this again--if there should be any jam about, no stickin' ye +wicked old fingers into it an' lickin' 'em behind my back." + +"You lemme an' the jam alone, Joe; it's a free country, ain't it?--very +well, then!" + +"Free country be blowed! You mind what I say, you venerable old bag of +iniquity, you!" + +"'Niquity yerself!" snarled the Old Un, and snapping bony finger and +thumb under Joe's massive chin, turned and went on up the stairs, his +smart straw hat cocked at a defiant angle, his brilliant shoes creaking +loudly at every step. + +"Oh, Gorramighty!" he panted, halting suddenly on the fifth landing to +get his breath, "these perishin' stairs 'as ketched my wind, Joe; it's +worse 'n th' treadmill! Is there many more of 'em?" + +"Only six flights!" nodded Joe grimly. + +"Six!" wailed the Old Un. "Lord--it'll be the death o' me!" + +"Well, it's about time you was dead," nodded Joe. + +"Dead ye'self!" snarled the old man. "I'm a better figger of a man than +ever you was--" + +"An' you would come," continued Joe serenely, as he deftly resettled the +old fellow's sporty bow-tie. "You fair plagued me to bring ye along, +didn't ye, old packet o' vindictiveness?" + +"Well, an' here I am, Joe, an' here I mean t' stay--no more climbin' fer +me; I'm tired, me lad, tired!" Saying which, the Old Un spread his +handkerchief on a convenient stair and proceeded to seat himself thereon +with due regard for his immaculately creased trousers. + +"Well," growled Joe, "of all the perverse old raspers that ever I did +see--" + +"That's enough, Joe, that's enough!" exclaimed the Old Un, fanning +himself with his rakish hat. "Jest bend down and flick the dust off me +shoes with your wipe, like a good lad, will ye? That's the worst o' +these 'ere patent leathers; they looks well, but they sure ketches th' +dust, Joe, they ketches the dust oncommon bad. So jest give 'em a flick +over--me pore old back's too stiff t' let me reach 'em, what wi' me +rheumatiz an' a floatin' kidney or so--" + +"Kidneys!" snarled Joe, drawing out a large bandanna handkerchief and +polishing the old man's natty shoes until they shone resplendent. +"What's the matter with ye blessed kidneys now?" + +"Don't I tell ye--they floats, Joe, they floats!" + +"Float!" growled Joe. "Float--where to?" + +"'Ere, there, an' everywhere, Joe, I can feel 'em! They're always +a-gettin' theirselves all mixed up any'ow. Oh, it's an 'orrible +complaint to 'ave kidneys like mine as gets theirselves lost." + +"Wish they'd lose you along with 'em!" growled Joe, shaking the dust +from his handkerchief. + +"Joe," said the old man, putting on his hat and blinking up at him +beneath its jaunty brim, "Joe, sometimes I fair despise ye!" + +"Well, despise away," nodded Joe, "only get up--stand up on them +doddering old pins o' yourn." + +"Not me!" declared the Old Un, "I ain't goin' to climb no more o' these +perishin' stairs--no, not for you nor nobody. 'Ere I am, me lad, an' +'ere I sits till you give me a piggy-back up to the top--me bein' a pore +old cove with rheumatiz. I demands it--" + +"You'll what?" growled Joe, hard-breathing and indignant. + +"Demand it, Joe--a pore old feller wi' kidneys--an' every other ailment +as flesh is hair to--a piggy-back, Joe--a piggy-back!" + +Without another word Joe stooped, and lifting the old man beneath one +arm, bore him up the stairs regardless of his croaking protestations and +fierce invective. + +"I said a piggy-back--oh, you blightin' perisher, I said a piggy-back," +he snarled, his resplendent shoes twinkling in futile kicks. "Oh, Joe, +there's times when I fair 'ates ye!" + +Thus, despite virulent curses and feeble kickings, Joe bore him on +and up until, as he climbed the last flight, he was arrested by an +exclamation from above, and glancing upward, beheld a tall, +sharp-featured woman who leaned over the rail. + +"Oh, land o' my fathers!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "what's the +matter--what you got there? Who are ye?" + +"The matter, ma'am," answered Joe, for by this time the Old Un had +cursed himself quite breathless, "the matter's contrariness; what I +'ave under my arm, ma'am, is a old reprobate, and I'm Joe Madden, ma'am, +come to take tea with my--come, as you might say, a visiting to Mr. +Geoffrey; p'raps you'll--" + +"Don't 'eed 'im, ma'am--never 'eed 'im!" croaked the Old Un, who had +regained his wind by now. "'E 's a perishin' pork pig, that's wot 'e is. +Joe, you blighter, put me down. It's me as the Guv expects--it's me as +'as come a-visitin'--Joe, put me down, you perisher. Joe's only a hoaf, +ma'am, a nass, ma'am. Joe ain't used to perlite serciety, Joe don't know +nothin'--put me down, Joe, like a good lad!" + +At this juncture Ravenslee appeared, whereupon Joe, having reached +the topmost landing, set the old man upon his natty feet and fell to +straightening his smart clothes with hands big but gentle. + +"Sir," explained Joe, answering Ravenslee's smiling look, "Old Sin an' +Sorrer here wouldn't walk up, which forced me to--" + +But now the Old Un, feeling himself again, cut in on his own account. +"Ma'am," said he, flourishing off his hat to Mrs. Trapes, "'ere 's me +an' me lad Joe come to tea--my best respex an' greetin's, ma'am. How do, +Guv? I do 'ope as you ain't forgot th' cake." + +"Oh, we've plenty of cake, Old Un!" laughed Ravenslee. + +"An' water cress an' jam!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. + +"Guv," said the old man, gripping Ravenslee's hand, "God bless ye for a +true man an' a noble sport. Ma'am, you're a angel! Jam, ma'am--you're +a nymp'--you're two nymp's-- + +"'I oft would cast a rovin' eye + Ere these white 'airs I grew, ma'am, + To see a 'andsome nymp' go by, + But none s' fair as you, ma'am.' + +"An' there's me hand on it, ma'am." + +"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, staring; then all at once she +laughed, a strange laugh that came and went again immediately, yet left +her features a little less grim than usual, as, reaching out, she +grasped the old man's feeble hand. + +"I guess you're only bein' p'lite," said she, "but jest for that you're +sure goin' t' eat as much cake an' jam as your small insides can hold." +So saying, she led the way into her small and very neat domain and +ushered them into the bright little parlour where the Spider sat already +enthroned in that armchair whereon sunflowers rioted. Like the chair, +the Spider was somewhat exotic as to socks and tie, and he seemed a +trifle irked by stiff cuffs and collar as he sat staring at the green +and yellow tablecloth and doing his best not to tread upon the pink +hearthrug. + +"Joe," said Ravenslee, "this is Spider Connolly, who knocked out Larry +McKinnon at San Francisco last year in the sixty-ninth. Spider, I want +you to shake hands with--" + +"Bo," exclaimed the Spider, rising reverently and taking a step toward +Joe's massive figure, quite forgetful of the pink hearthrug now, "you +don't have t' tell me nothin'. I guess I know th' best all-round +fightin' man, the greatest champion as ever swung a mitt, when I see +him! T' shake his hand'll sure be--" + +"Young feller, me lad," cried the Old Un, reaching out nimbly and +catching the Spider's extended hand, "you got a sharp eye, a true eye--a +eye as can discrimpinate, like--ah, like a flash o' light. You're right, +me lad, I was the best fightin' man, the greatest champeen as ever +was--sixty odd years ago. Ho, yus, I were the best of 'em all, an' I +ain't t' be sniffed at now. So shake me 'and, me lad--an' shake--hard!" + +The Spider's grim jaw relaxed, and his eyes opened very wide as the Old +Un continued to shake his hand up and down. + +"But, say," said he faintly at last, "I don't--" + +"No more don't I," nodded the Old Un, "what's the old song say: + +"'I don't care if it rains or snows + Or what the day may be + Since 'ere's a truth I plainly knows + Love, you'll remember me.'" + +"But say," began the bewildered Spider again. "Say, I reckon--" + +"So do I," nodded the Old Un: + +"'I reckon up my years o' life + An' a good long life 'ave I. + Ye see, I never had a wife, + P'raps that's the reason why.' + +"So take it from me, young feller, me cove, don't 'ave nothin' to do +with givin' or takin' in marriage." + +"Marriage?" + +"Marriage ain't good for a fightin' cove--it spiles him, it shakes +'is nerve, it fair ruinates 'im. When love flies in at the winder, +champeenships fly up the chimbley--never t' come back no more. So beware +o' wives, me lad." + +"Wives!" repeated the Spider, lifting free hand to dazed brow, "I--I +ain't never--" + +"That's right!" nodded the Old Un heartily, shaking the Spider's +unresisting hand again, "marriage ain't love, an' love ain't marriage. +Wot's the old song say: + +"'Oh, love is like a bloomin' rose + But marriage is a bloomin' thorn. + An 'usband 's full o' bloomin' woes + An' 'caves a bloomin' sigh each morn--'" + +"Why, Old Un!" exclaimed Ravenslee, "that's a very remarkable verse!" + +"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows in the doorway, +"I suspects he's a poet--an' him sech a nice little old gentleman!" + +"A poet, ma'am!" exclaimed the Old Un indignantly, "not me, ma'am, not +me--should scorn t' be. I'm a 'ighly respected old fightin' man, I am, +as never went on th' cross: + +"'A fightin' man I, ma'am, + An' wish I may die, ma'am, + If ever my backers I crossed; + An' what's better still, ma'am, + Though I forgot many a mill, ma'am, + Not one of 'em ever I lost.'" + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes again. "What a memory!" + +"Memory, ma'am!" growled Joe, "that ain't memory; 'e makes 'em up as 'e +goes along--" + +"Joe," said the Old Un, glaring, "if the lady weren't here, an' axin' +'er pardon--I'd punch you in the perishin' eye-'ole for that!" + +"All right, old vindictiveness," sighed Joe, "an' now, if you'll let go +of Spider Connolly's fist, I'd like to say 'ow do. Sit down an' give +some one else a chance to speak--sit down, you old bag o' wind--" + +"Bag o'--" the old man dropped the Spider's nerveless hand to turn to +Mrs. Trapes with a gloomy brow. "You 'eard that, ma'am--you 'eard this +perishin' porker call me a bag o'--Joe, I blush for ye! Ma'am, pore Joe +means well, but 'e can't 'elp bein' a perisher--but"--and here the Old +Un raised and shook a feeble old fist--"I've a good mind t' ketch 'im +one as would put 'im t' sleep for a fortnight--I've a good mind--" + +But Mrs. Trapes caught that tremulous fist and drawing the Old Un's arm +through her own, turned to the door. + +"You come along with me," said she, "you shall help me t' get the tea; +you shall carry in th' cake an'--" + +"Cake!" exclaimed the Old Un, "Oh, j'yful word, ma'am; you're a--a +lidy! An' there's jam, ain't there?" + +"Strawberry!" + +"Straw--oh, music t' me ears, ma'am--you're a nymp'--lead me to it!" So +saying, the Old Un followed Mrs. Trapes out into the kitchen, while the +Spider stared after him open-mouthed. + +"Sufferin' Pete!" he murmured, then, inhaling a long, deep breath, +turned to grasp Joe's mighty, outstretched hand. Then, drawing their +chairs together, they sat down, and Ravenslee, by an adroit question +or two, soon had them talking, the Spider quick and eager and chewing +voraciously, Joe soft-voiced and deliberate but speaking with that calm +air of finality that comes only of long and varied experience. So, while +Ravenslee smoked and listened, they spoke of past battles, of fights and +fighters old and new; they discoursed learnedly on ringcraft, they +discussed the merits of the crouch as opposed to the stiff leg and +straight left; they stood up to show tricks of foot and hand--cunning +shifts and feints; they ducked and side-stepped and smote the empty air +with whirling fists to the imminent peril of the owl that was a parrot, +which moth-eaten relic seemed to watch them with his solitary glass eye. +And ever the Spider's respect and admiration for the mild-eyed, +quiet-spoken champion waxed and grew. + +"Bo!" said he, dexterously catching the toppling bird, glass case and +all, for the second time, and addressing Ravenslee with it clasped to +his heart, "bo," he repeated, his eyes shining, "I guess Joe Madden, the +greatest battler of 'em all, is--Joe Madden still. I've always wanted t' +meet with him, an' say--I wouldn't ha' missed him for a farm." + +"Is that so!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, entering the room at this moment +with the tea-cloth, "well, now--you jest put 'im down--you jest put that +bird back again, Spider Connolly!" + +"Yes, ma'am," quoth the Spider, all abashed humility. + +"What you doin' with it, anyway?" she demanded, elbows jutted ominously; +"it's lost a eye, an' a cat got it once an' sp'iled it some, but I +treasure it fer reasons o' sentiment, an' if you think you c'n steal +it--" + +"Not 'im, ma'am, not 'im!" piped the Old Un from the doorway, "it ain't +the pore lad's fault. It's Joe, blame it all on to Joe--Joe's got a bad +'eart, ma'am, a black, base-'earted perisher is Joe--so no jam for Joe, +ma'am, an' only one slice o' cake." + +Here Ravenslee hastened to explain, whereupon Mrs. Trapes's grimness +abated, and her bristling elbows subsided; and now, perceiving how the +abashed Spider, meeting her eye, flushed, plucked at his cuffs, and +shuffled his feet, she reached out to pat his broad and drooping +shoulder. + +"Mister Connolly," said she, "for harsh words spoke in haste I craves +now your pardon, an' I craves it--humble. Am I forgive?" + +The Spider, flushing redder than ever, rose to his feet, seized her +hand, shook it, and muttered: "Sure!" + +When the table was laid, the Old Un proposed, and was duly seconded, +thirded, and fourthed, that Mrs. Trapes be elected into the chair to +pour out the tea, which she proceeded to do forthwith, while the Old Un, +seated at her right hand, kept a wary eye roving between jam dish and +angel cake. And by reason of the unwonted graciousness of Mrs. Trapes, +of Ravenslee's tact and easy assurance, and the Old Un's impish +hilarity, all diffidence and restraint were banished, and good +fellowship reigned supreme, though the Spider was interrupted in the +midst of a story by the Old Un suddenly exclaiming: + +"Keep your hand out o' the jam, Joe!" + +And Joe was later rendered speechless, hard-breathing, and indignant, by +the Old Un turning to Mrs. Trapes with the shrill warning: + +"Ma'am, Joe's 'ad two 'elpin's o' cake an' got 'is 'orrid eye on what +remains!" + +Nevertheless, the meal was in all ways a success, and Ravenslee was +reaching for his pipe when Mrs. Trapes, summoned to the front door by a +feverish knocking, presently came back followed by Tony, whose bright +eyes looked wider than usual as he saluted the company. + +"Hey, Geoff, me tell-a you piece-a da-noos!" he cried excitedly, "big-a +piece-a da-noos. Da cops go-a pinch-a Bud-a M'Ginn'!" + +"Bud? Bud?" stammered the Spider. "Have they pinched Bud? Is this the +straight goods, Tony?" + +"Sure--they gott-a heem this-a morn in Jersey City--'n' say, he think-a +eet a frame-up--he theenk-a Geoff set-a de cops for-a take heem." + +"The hell he does!" exclaimed the Spider, starting to his feet. + +"So he send-a da word to Soapy," continued Tony, his eyes rolling, "an' +now all-a da gang's out layin' for-a Geoff. So when Geoff go-a out on +da street--bingo! Dey snuff hees light out--" + +"Not much they won't!" said the Spider, buttoning up his coat and +turning to the door. "I'll mighty soon fix this, I guess." + +"Do you think you can, Spider?" enquired Ravenslee. "If you're going to +have any trouble, don't bother about--" + +"Bo," said the Spider, squaring his big jaw, "get onto this: here's +where I chip in with ye; from now on we're in this game together, an' +I ain't a guy as'll lay down his hand till I'm called--an' called good, +see? You said it was goin' t' be a man's work--by Jiminy Christmas, it +looks like you're right; anyway, I stand in with you, that's sure--put +it there, bo!" + +"But," said Ravenslee, as their hands gripped, "I don't want you to take +any chances on my account, or run any--" + +"Fudge, bo, fudge! I ain't takin' no chances--" + +"Well, I'm coming along to see you don't!" said Ravenslee, reaching for +his hat. + +"Not on your life, bo; you'd queer th' whole show. Y' see, they're a +tough crowd an' apt t' act a bit hasty now an' then; 'sides, they might +think you're heeled, and they know I don't never carry a gun--they all +know me--" + +"Still, I'm coming, Spider--" + +"Y' can't, bo; Mrs. Trapes ain't goin' t' let ye--look at her!" + +"You never spoke a truer word since you drawed the vital air, Spider +Connolly!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, hands on hips and elbows at the "engage." +"If Mr. Geoffrey stirs out this day, he's jest gotter trample over my +mangled remains, that's all!" + +Heeding the glitter in her eye and noting the inexorable jut of her +elbows, Ravenslee sat down and went on filling his pipe. + +"Y' see, bo, I know as it wasn't you as give Bud away, an' the boys'll +listen t' my say-so--you bet they will. So here's where I ooze away. S' +long, all!" + +The Old Un, having bolted the last handful of cake, got upon his legs +and clutched the Spider's coat in talon-like fingers. + +"'Old 'ard, young feller, me lad!" he cried. "If there's any chance of +a scrap comin' off--wot about me? Gimme me 'at, Joe, an' get yourn; if I +don't knock some on 'em stone cold--call me a perishin' ass!" + +"Why, since you say so, old blood an' bones," said Joe, his mild eye +brightening, "we will step along with the Spider a little way if the +Guv'nor'll excuse us?" + +"Certainly, Joe," nodded Ravenslee, "on condition that you do just as +the Spider says." + +"You mean, sir?" + +"No fighting, Joe--at least, not yet." + +"Trust me, sir! What ain't to be--yet, is to be sometime, I 'opes," +sighed Joe. + +"Good-by, Guv, good-by!" croaked the Old Un, "if I don't put some o' +they perishers in the 'orspitals an' the infirmaries--I ain't the man I +was-- + +"'Oh, used am I to war's alarms + I 'unger for the fray, + Though beauty clasps me in 'er arms + The trumpet calls away.'" + +So having made their adieux, the three took their departure; though +once, despite Joe's objurgations, the Old Un must needs come back to +kiss Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand with a flourish which left her +voiceless and round of eye until the clatter of their feet had died +away. + +Then she closed the door and fixed Ravenslee with her stoniest stare. + +"Mr. Geoffrey," she demanded, "why did they call you 'Guv'nor', and +wherefore 'Sir'?" + +Ravenslee, in the act of lighting his pipe, had paused for a suitable +answer, when Tony, who had remained mute in a corner, stepped forward +and spoke: + +"Say, Geoff, I got-a bit-a more noos. Old-a Finlay-a want-a spik with-a +you--" + +"Old Finlay--with me?" + +"Sure. Old-a Finlay-a go die-a ver' queek, an' he vant-a spik with-a you +first." + +"Dying! Old Finlay dying?" questioned Ravenslee, rising. + +"Sure! He go die-a ver' queek." + +"I'll come!" + +"An' I guess," said Mrs. Trapes, "yes, I opine as I'll come along wi' +ye, Mr. Geoffrey." + +Old Martin Finlay lay propped up by pillows, his great, gaunt, useless +body seeming almost too large for the narrow bed wherein he lay, staring +up great-eyed at Ravenslee--live eyes in a dead face. + +"It's dying I am, sorr," said he faintly, "an' it's grateful is ould +Martin for the docthers and medicine you've paid for. But it's meself +is beyand 'em all--an' it's beyand 'em I'm goin' fast. She's waitin' +for me--me little Maggie's houlding out her little hand to me--she's +waitin' for me--beyand, Holy Mary be praised! An' she's waited long +enough, sorr, my little Maggie as I loved so while the harsh words +burned upon me tongue--my little Maggie! I was bitter cruel to my little +girl, but you've been kind to me, and, sorr, I thank ye. But," continued +the dying man, slowly and feebly, "it aren't to thank yez as I wanted +ye--but to give yez something in trust for Miss Hermy--ye see, sorr, I +shant be here when she comes back to-night, I'll be with--little Maggie +when the hour strikes--my little Maggie! Norah, wife--give it to him." + +Silently Mrs. Finlay opened a drawer, and turning, placed in Ravenslee's +hand a heavy gold ring curiously wrought into the form of two hands +clasping each other. + +"It was my Maggie's," continued Martin, "an' I guess she valleyed +it a whole lot, sorr. I found it hid away with odds and ends as she +treasured. But she don't want it no more--she's dead, ye see, sorr--I +killed her--drowned, sorr--I drowned her. Cruel an' hard I was--shut her +out onto the streets, I did, and so--she died. But before the river +took--oh, Blessed Mary--oh, Mother O' God--pity! Before she went t' +heaven, Miss Hermy was good t' her; Miss Hermy loved her and tried t' +comfort her--but only God could do that, I reckon--so she went t' God. +But Miss Hermy was kind when I wasn't, so, sorr, it's give her that ring +ye will, plaze, an' say as poor Martin died blessing her. An' now it's +go I'll ask ye, sorr, for God's callin' me to wipe away me tears an' +sorrers and bind up me broken heart--so lave me to God and--my little +Maggie--" + +Very softly Ravenslee followed Mrs. Trapes out of the room, but they had +not reached the front door when they heard a glad cry and thereafter a +woman's sudden desolate sobbing. + +"Go on, Mr. Geoffrey," whispered Mrs. Trapes. "But I guess I'd better +stay here a bit." + +"You mean--?" + +"As poor Martin's sure found his little girl again!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HOW SPIKE MADE A CHOICE AND A PROMISE + + +Monday morning found Ravenslee knocking at the opposite door, which +opening, disclosed Spike, but a very chastened and humble Spike, who +blushed and drooped his head and shuffled with his feet and finally +stammered: + +"Hello, Geoff--I--I'm all alone, but you--you can come in if--if you +care to?" + +"I dropped in on my way down just to have a word with you, Spike." + +With dragging feet Spike led the way into the sitting room, where lay +his breakfast, scarcely tasted. + +"Sit down, Geoff, I--I want to apologise," said the lad, toying +nervously with his teaspoon. "I guess you think I'm a mean, low-down +sort o' guy, an' you're right, only I--I feel worse 'n you think. An' +say, Geoff, if I--if I said anything th' other night, I want you +to--forget it, will you?" + +"Why, of course, Spike." + +"Hermy's forgiven me. I--I've promised to work hard an' do what she +wants." + +"I'm glad of that, Spike!" + +"She came creepin' into my room this mornin' before she went, but--me +thinkin' she meant to give me a last call down--I pretended t' be +asleep, so she just sighed an' went creepin' out again an' wrote me +this," and Spike drew a sheet of crumpled note paper from his pocket and +handed it to Ravenslee, who read these words: + +Boy dear, I love you so much that if you destroyed my love, I +think you would destroy me too. Now I must leave you to go to my work, +but you will go to yours, won't you--for my sake and for your sake and +because I love you so. Be good and strong and clean, and if you want some +one to help you, go to your friend, Mr. Geoffrey. Good-by, dear--and +remember your promise. + +Ravenslee passed back the pencilled scrawl and Spike, bending his head +low, read it through again. + +"I guess I've just got t' be good," he murmured, "for her sake. Oh, +Geoff," he cried suddenly, "I'd die for her!" + +"Better live for her, Spike, and be the honourable, clean man she +wishes." + +"She sure thinks you're some man, Geoff! I guess she's--kind o'--fond of +you." + +"That's what I've come to talk about, Spike." + +"Are you--fond of her, Geoff?" + +"Fond!" exclaimed Ravenslee, forgetting to drawl, "I'm so fond--I love +her so much--I honour her so deeply that I want her for my wife." + +"Wife?" exclaimed Spike, starting to his feet, his eyes suddenly +radiant, "d'ye mean you'll marry her?" + +"If she will honour me so far, Spike." + +"Marry her! You'll marry her!" Spike repeated. + +"As soon as she'll let me!" + +"Geoff--oh, Geoff," exclaimed the boy, and choking, turned away. + +"Won't you congratulate me?" + +"I can't yet," gasped Spike; "I can't till I've told ye what a mean guy +I've been." + +"What about?" + +"About you--and Hermy. Bud said you meant t' make her go the way--little +Maggie Finlay went, an'--oh, Geoff, I--I kind of believed him." + +"Did you, Spike--that foul beast? But you don't believe it any longer, +and M'Ginnis is--only M'Ginnis, after all." + +"But I--I've got to tell you more," said the lad miserably, as meeting +Ravenslee's eye with an effort, he went on feverishly. "The other night +after--after Bud slipped me the--the stuff an' I'd had a--a drink or +two, he began askin' all about you. At first I blocked and side-stepped +all his questions, but he kep' on at me, an' at last I--I give you away, +Geoff--" Here Spike paused breathlessly and cast an apprehensive glance +toward his hearer, but finding him silent and serene as ever he +repeated: + +"I--gave you away, Geoff!" + +"Did you, Spike?" + +"Yes, I--I told him who you really are!" + +"Did you, Spike?" + +"Yes! Yes! Oh, Geoff, don't you understand?" + +"I understand." + +"Well, why don't ye say something? Why don't ye tell me what I am? Say +I'm a dirty sneak--call me a yeller cur--anything!" + +"No, you were drunk, that's all; and when the drink is in, honour, and +all that makes a man, is out--you were only drunk." + +"Oh, but I wasn't s' drunk as all that," gasped Spike, cowering in +his chair, "but he kep' on comin' at me with his questions, an' at +last--when I told him how I met up with you--he kind o' give a jump--an' +his face--" Spike clenched his fists and, slowly raising them, pressed +them upon his eyes. "I'll never forget th' look on--his face! So now you +know as I've blown th' game on ye--given ye away--you as was my friend!" +With the word Spike sobbed and fell grovelling on his knees. "Curse me, +Geoff!" he cried. "Oh, curse me, an' tell me what I am!" + +"You are Hermione's brother!" + +"My God!" wailed the boy. "If she knew, she'd hate me." + +"I--almost think she would, Spike." + +"You won't tell her, Geoff, you won't never let her know?" + +"I--don't get drunk, Spike." + +"But you won't tell her?" he pleaded, reaching out desperate hands, +"you won't?" + +"Not a word, Spike!" + +"Oh, I know I'm--rotten!" sobbed the lad. "I know you ain't got no use +for me any more, but I'm sorry, Geoff, I'm real sorry. I know a guy +can't forgive a guy as gives a guy away if that guy's a guy's friend. I +know as you can't forgive me. I know as you'll cut me out for good after +this. But I want ye t' know as I'm sorry, Geoff--awful sorry--I--I ain't +fit t' be anybody's friend, I guess." + +"I think you need a friend more than ever, Spike!" + +"Geoff!" cried the boy breathlessly. "Say--what d' you mean?" + +"I mean the time has come for you to choose between M'Ginnis and me. If +I am to be your friend, M'Ginnis must be your enemy from now on--wait! +If you want my friendship, no more secrets; tell me just how M'Ginnis +got you into his power--how he got you to break into my house." + +Spike glanced up through his tears, glanced down, choked upon a sob, and +burst into breathless narrative. + +"There was me an' Bud an' a guy they call Heine--we'd been to a rube +boxin' match up th' river. An' as we come along, Heine says: 'If I was +in th' second-story-lay there's millionaire Ravenslee's wigwam waitin' +t' be cracked,' an' he pointed out your swell place among th' trees in +th' moonlight. Then Bud says: 'You ain't got th' nerve, Heine. Why, th' +Kid's got more nerve than you,' he says, pattin' my shoulder. An' Heine +laughs an' says I'm only a kid. An' Geoff, I'd got two or three drinks +into me an' th' end was I agreed t' just show 'em as I had nerve enough +t' get in through a winder an' cop something--anything I could get. So +Bud hands me his 'lectric torch, an' we skin over th' fence an' up to +th' house--an' Heine has th' winder open in a jiffy, an' me--bein' +half-soused an' foolish--hikes inter th' room, an' you cops me on th' +jump an'--an' that's all!" + +"And M'Ginnis has threatened to send you up for it now and then, eh?" + +"Only for a joke. Bud ain't like me; he'd never split on a pal--Bud +wouldn't gimme away--" + +"Anyway, Spike, it's him or me. Which will you have for a friend?" + +"Oh, Geoff, I--I guess I'd follow you t' Kingdom Come if you'd let me. +I do want t' live straight an' clean--honest t' God I do, Geoff, an' if +you'll only forgive--" + +Spike's outstretched, pleading hands were caught and held, and he was +lifted to his feet. + +"My Arthur-Spike, art going to the office this morning?" + +"Sure I am; my eye ain't--ain't s' bad, after all, is it? Anyway, I feel +more like what a man should feel like now, an'--Gee! look at me doin' +the sissy tear-spoutin' act! Oh, hell--lemme go an' wash me face. 'N' +say, if--if any o' them--I mean those dolly office boys has anything t' +say, I'll punch th' sawdust out o' them!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +WHICH MAKES FURTHER MENTION OF A RING + + +Ravenslee, strolling in leisurely fashion along Tenth Avenue, became +aware of a slender, pallid youth whose old-young face was familiar; a +cigarette dangled from his pale, thin lips, and his slender hands were +hidden in the pockets of his smartly tailored coat. On went Ravenslee, +pausing now and then to glance idly into some shop window until, +chancing to slip his fingers into a waistcoat pocket, he paused all at +once and, drawing thence a ring wrought into the semblance of two +clasped hands, drew it upon his finger. Now as he glanced at the ring, +his eye gleamed and, smiling as one who has a sudden bright idea, he set +off faster than before, striding on light and purposeful feet. But, as +he turned a corner, he noticed that the pallid youth was still close +behind, wherefore he halted before a shop window where, among other +articles of diet, were cans of tomatoes neatly piled into a pyramid. At +these he stared, waiting, and presently found the pallid youth at his +elbow, who also stared upon the tomato pyramid with half-closed eyes and +with smouldering cigarette pendent from thin-lipped mouth. And after +they had stared awhile in silence, cheek by jowl, Ravenslee spoke in his +pleasant, lazy voice: + +"Judging by the labels these tomatoes are everything tomatoes possibly +could be." + +"'S right!" murmured the pale one imperturbably. + +"Fond of tomatoes?" enquired Ravenslee. + +"Aw!" answered his neighbour, "quit foolin'--talk sense!" + +"Certainly! Why do you follow me, Soapy?" + +Soapy's eyes grew narrower, and the pendent cigarette stirred slightly. + +"Know me, hey?" he enquired. + +"Heaven forbid! 'T was a bolt at a venture--a shot in the dark." + +"Talkin'--o'--shootin'," said Soapy, grimly deliberate, "peanuts ain't a +healthy profesh around here--not fer your kind, it ain't!" + +"Oh, I don't know," answered Ravenslee, shaking his head gently at the +tomatoes, "I've heard of professions even more unhealthy." + +"Aw--well--say what?" + +"Well, talking of shooting--yours!" + +Soapy's narrow eyes gleamed with an added viciousness, his pale nostrils +expanded, but the retort died upon his curling mouth, his puffy eyelids +widened and widened as he stared at the ring on Ravenslee's finger, and +when he spoke his voice was strangely hoarse and eager. + +"Say, sport--where'd you--get that--ring?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +"'Cause I want to know, I guess." + +"Think you've seen it before?" + +"Sport, I don't think--I know. I seen it many a time. I'd know it in a +million, sure." + +"Where did you see it before?" + +"On M'Ginnis's mitt. It useter belong t' Bud." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Ravenslee, scowling down at the ring, "you make me wish +more than ever that I had throttled him a little harder." + +"Where'd you get that ring, sport?" Soapy repeated. + +"From Maggie Finlay's father!" + +Soapy turned away to stare at the tomato cans again. + +"Meanin'?" he enquired at last, hoarser than before. + +"That once upon a time it belonged to--her." + +"Sport," said Soapy after an interval, still staring at the pyramid of +cans, "I useter know her once, an' I've jest nacherally took a fancy t' +that ring; if fifty dollars'll buy it, they're yours--right now." + +"It isn't mine," answered Ravenslee, still scowling at the ring which +he had drawn from his finger. "I'm on my way to take it to--its owner. +But if that person doesn't want it, and I'm pretty sure--that +person--won't, you shall have it, I promise you. And now," said he, +pocketing the ring and turning, still scowling, on Soapy, "you are one +of M'Ginnis's gang, I fancy; anyway, if you see him you can tell him +from me that if he gives me another chance I'll surely kill him for the +foul beast he is." + +"Sport," said Soapy, "I guess the Spider's right about you--anyway, you +ain't my meat. An' as fer killin' Bud--you sure ain't goin' t' get th' +chance--not while I have the say-so. S' long, sport!" and turning upon +his heel, Soapy lounged away. + +At Times Square Ravenslee entered the subway and, buying his ticket, was +jostled by a boy, a freckled boy, round-headed and round of nose, who +stared at him with a pair of round, impertinent eyes. + +Lost in happy speculation he was duly borne to One Hundred and Thirtieth +Street, where he boarded the ferry. Upon the boat he was again conscious +of a round head that bobbed here and there amid the throng of +passengers, but paid small heed as he leaned to watch the broad and +noble river and the green New Jersey shore. At Fort Lee, exchanging boat +for trolley car, he was once more vaguely conscious of two round eyes +that watched him from a rear seat; but as the powerful car whirled them +up-hill, plunged them down steep inclines, swung them around sharp +curves, through shady woods, past far-flung boughs whose leaves stirred +and whispered as the great car fleeted by, he fell again to dreaming of +Hermione and the future; and so reached Englewood, a small township +dreaming in the fierce midday sunshine. Here he enquired of a perspiring +butcher in shirtsleeves the whereabouts of the house he wanted and, +being fully directed and carefully admonished how to get there, set off +along the road. And remembering that her feet must often have traversed +this very path, he straightway fell to his dreaming again. Thus how +should he know anything of the round head that bobbed out from behind +bush or tree ere it followed whither he went? So Ravenslee came where +the road led between tall trees--to smooth green lawns beyond which was +the gleam of water and so at last to the house he sought. + +Now beside this house, separated by a wide stretch of lawn, was a small +wood and, lured by its grateful shade, he turned aside into this wood +and began pushing his way through the dense undergrowth, which presently +thinned to form a small clearing, roofed and shut in by leaves and full +of a tender green light. Here he paused, and espying a fallen tree hard +by, sat himself down and began to fill his pipe. And now, remembering +his shabby person, he felt disinclined to go up to the house and demand +to see Miss Chesterton. Yet see her he would--but how? He was frowning +over this problem when it was resolved for him quite unexpectedly; +roused by the sound of a snapping twig, he glanced up--and Hermione was +before him. She was coming down a narrow path that wound amid the +leaves, and because she wore no hat, the sunlight, filtering through the +branches, made a glory of her hair as she passed. Her head was bowed, +and she walked very slowly as one in thought; she had brought sewing +with her, but for once her busy hands were idle, and, as he looked upon +her beauty, scarce breathing, he saw again that look of wistful sadness. + +As he rose, she glanced up, and seeing him, stood utterly still. Thus +for a long moment they gazed upon each other, then, even as he hastened +to her, she came to him on swift, light feet, and, flushing, tremulous, +quick-breathing, gave herself into his arms. + +"Oh, Hermione, my beloved!" he murmured, his voice tense and eager, +"didn't I say enough, last time? Don't you know I love you--worship +you--hunger and yearn for you? I want you with every breath I draw. +When will you be my wife--oh, when will you marry me, Hermione?" + +For answer she reached up her arms, sudden, passionate arms that clung +about him close and strong; so they stood thus, heart beating to heart, +thrilling at each other's nearness yet drawing ever closer until, +lifting her head, she gave her lips to his. + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," she whispered, "is it right to love you so, +I wonder? I never thought it could be--like this. It frightens me +sometimes, because my love is so great and strong and I--so powerless. +Is it right? I--Oh!" she broke off breathlessly, "how can I speak if--if +you--" + +"Kiss you so much?" he ended, "you can't speak, so--don't speak, my +Hermione!" But now, all at once, he started and glanced up among the +leaves above them. + +"Dear," she whispered, "what is it?" + +"That tapping sound," he answered, still gazing upward. + +"It's only the woodpecker." + +"Why, of course!" he laughed. "It's strange, but I dreamed a scene like +this--yes, the great tree yonder, and you in my arms--though it seemed +so impossible then, and--" + +But uttering a sudden, low cry of alarm, Hermione broke from his clasp +and fled from him along the leafy path while he stared after her, lost +in amazement; then he ran also and caught her upon the edge of the +little wood. + +"What frightened you, Hermione--who was it?" + +"I--I thought I saw some one crouching behind a bush--watching us!" + +"Not--M'Ginnis?" he demanded, fierce-eyed. + +"No--no, I'm sure it wasn't!" + +"I'll go and look," said Ravenslee, clenching his fists. But now, as he +turned away, two round arms were about him again, soft and compelling, +and she was looking up at him, all shy-eyed, passionate tenderness; and +before the revelation in that look, he forgot all else in the world. + +"Hermione--when will you marry me?" + +Now, softened by distance, there floated to them the mellow booming of +a gong. + +"That means I must go!" she sighed. + +"Hermione--when will you marry me?" + +"Good-by--good-by--I must run!" + +But his long arms only clasped her the closer. + +"Hermione, when will you be my wife?" + +"Oh, please, please let me go; if I'm late--" + +"When, Hermione?" + +"When I--come home, if--you really--want me--Oh, now my hair's all +coming down, I know. Good-by!" + +Reluctantly he loosed her and stood to watch until, reaching the +verandah of the house, she paused to glance back to where he stood among +the leaves ere she vanished between the screen doors. Then Ravenslee +turned, and remembering her sudden fright, looked sharply about him, +even pausing, now and then, to peer behind bush and thicket; but this +time he did not think to glance upward, and thus failed to see the round +eyes that watched him from amid the leaves of the great tree. + +So he came again to the dusty highway and strode along, throbbing with +life and the lust of life, revelling in the glory of earth and sky and +quite unconscious of the small, furtive figure that flitted after him +far behind. + +And it was not until he sat in the ferryboat that he remembered he had +forgotten to give her the ring, after all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +MRS. TRAPES UPON THE MILLENNIUM + + +Mulligan's was in a ferment. Bare-armed women talked in every doorway; +they talked from open windows, they talked leaning over banisters, they +congregated on landings and in passageways--but everywhere they talked; +while men and youths newly returned from work, lunch-can and basket in +hand, listened in wide-eyed astonishment, shook incredulous heads, +puffed thoughtfully at pipes or cigarettes, and questioned in guttural +wonderment. + +But Ravenslee, lost in his own happy thoughts, sped up the stairs all +unheeding, abstractedly returning such neighbourly salutes as he +happened to notice; reaching his lofty habitation in due course he let +himself in, and was in the act of filling his pipe when Mrs. Trapes +appeared. In one hand she grasped a meat skewer and in the other an open +testament, and it was to be noted that her bright eyes, usually so keen +and steady, roved here and there, from pink rug to green and yellow +tablecloth, thence to the parrot-owl, and at last to her lodger. Finally +she spoke. + +"Mr. Geoffrey, are ye saved?" she demanded in awe-struck tones. + +"Why, really, Mrs. Trapes, I--" + +"Because, Mr. Geoffrey, this day it behooveth us all t' think of our +souls an' th' hereafter, I reckon." + +"Souls?" said Ravenslee, staring in his turn. + +"Fire," she continued, shaking portentous head, "fire I'm prepared for; +a earthquake I could endoor; battle, murder, and sudden death I could +abide; poverty is me lot, Mr. Geoffrey, an' hardship is me portion, an' +for all sich am I dooly prepared, sich things bein' nacheral; but fer +this--well, there!" + +"What is the matter, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Matter, Mr. Geoffrey? Well, the millenyum's at hand, that's all--the +lion is about t' lay down with th' lamb, tigers has lost their taste fer +blood, an' snakes an' serpints has shed their vennymous fangs! Mr. +Geoffrey--the day is at hand--beware!" + +"What in the world--" began Ravenslee, but Mrs. Trapes stayed him with +uplifted skewer, and drew from the mysterious recesses of her apron a +folded circular which she proceeded to spread open and from which she +read in a hollow voice as follows: + +NOTICE AUGUST 1, 1910. + +On and after the above date, all tenants soever residing within the +tenement house known as Mulligan's are warned that all rents will be +reduced by fifty per cent. + +BY ORDER. + +"Now what," said Mrs. Trapes, refolding the circular very reverently and +shutting it into the testament, "jest what d'ye think o' that?" + +"Quite a--er--remarkable document, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Remarkable?" snorted Mrs. Trapes. + +"Yes," said Ravenslee, beginning to fill his pipe, "extraordinary, most +extraordinary--er--very much so--" + +"Extraordinary? Mr. Geoffrey, is that all you got t' say about it?" And +Mrs. Trapes sniffed loudly. + +"Well, what more should I say?" + +"Why, ain't it th' wonder o' th' whole round world? Ain't it th' +merrycle of all time?" + +"Certainly! Not a doubt of it!" he agreed. "By the way, what do you +happen to have for supper? You see I've been--" + +"Supper?" + +"I'm quite hungry--I'm always hungry lately and--" + +"Hungry!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, rolling her eyes, "here I tell him +of wonders an' omens beyond pore huming understanding an'--he's hungry! +Lord, ain't that jest like a man! A man's soul, if a man has a soul, +lays in his stummick. Hungry! But you shall be fed--prompt, Mr. +Geoffrey. How'll b'iled salmon an' peas soot?" + +"Splendidly! And I think--" + +"'On and after,'" said Mrs. Trapes, slowly and dreamily, "'on and after +the above date, all tenants soever residin'--I've learned it by heart, +Mr. Geoffrey. Then it goes on to say, 'within the tennyment house known +as Mulligan's are warned'--hum! I wonder why 'warned'?--'are warned that +all rents will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!' Fifty per cent!" she +repeated in a dreamy rapture, "which is jest half, y' see. An', Mr. +Geoffrey, that's jest what's got me plumb scared--it's all so +unnacheral. I've heard o' rents bein' rose--constant, but who ever +heard of 'em bein' took down before? Well, well! My land! Well, well!" + +With which remark Mrs. Trapes went about her household duties, leaving +Ravenslee to lounge and smoke and dream blissfully of Hermione. + +"Y' see," said Mrs. Trapes, wandering in with a plate, "it'll make +things s' much easier for all of us; we shall begin t' feel almost +rich--some of us. 'Are warned that all rents will be re-dooced by fifty +per cent.' Well, well!" and she wandered out again. + +But presently she was back once more, this time with the tablecloth, +which she proceeded to spread, though still lost in dreamy abstraction. + +"At first I couldn't an' I wouldn't believe it, Mr. Geoffrey--no, sir!" +she continued in the same rapt voice. "But every one's got a notice same +as mine, so I guess it must be true--don't ye think?" + +"Not a doubt of it!" answered Ravenslee. + +"But th' burnin' question as I asks myself is--who? It's signed 'By +Order', y' see, well--whose? One sure thing, it ain't Mulligan." + +"But he owns the place, doesn't he?" + +"He did, Mr. Geoffrey, an' that's what worries me--continual. What I +demands is--who now?" + +"Echo, Mrs. Trapes, methinks doth answer 'Who?' By the way, it +was--er--salmon and green peas I think you--" + +"My land, that bit o' salmon'll bile itself t' rags!" and incontinent +she vanished. + +However, in due time Ravenslee sat down to as tasty a supper as might be +and did ample justice to it, while Mrs. Trapes once more read aloud for +his edification from the wondrous circular, and was again propounding +the vexed and burning question of "who" when she was interrupted by a +knocking without, and going to the door, presently returned with little +Mrs. Bowker, in whose tired eyes shone an unusual light, and whose faded +voice held a strange note of gladness. + +"Good evenin', Mr. Geoffrey!" said she, bobbing him a curtsey as he rose +to greet her, "my Hazel sends you her love an' a kiss for them last +candies--an' thank ye for all th' medicine--but oh, Mr. Geoffrey, an' +you, Ann Trapes, you'll never guess what's brought me. I've come t' wish +ye good-by, we're--oh, Ann, we're goin' at last!" + +"Goin'!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clutching at her elbows, "y' never mean +as you're leavin' Mulligan's now the rent's been took down--re-dooced +fifty per cent.--by order?" + +"That's just what I'm tellin' ye--oh, Ann, ain't it just--heavenly!" + +"Heavenly!" repeated Mrs. Trapes, and sank into a chair. + +"Yes, heavenly t' see th' trees an' flowers again--t' live among them, +Ann." + +"Samanthy Bowker--what do you mean?" + +"Why, Ann, my Tom's had a gardener's job offered him at a gentleman's +mansion in the country. Tom went after it t'day--an' got it. Fifteen +dollars a week an' a cottage--free, Ann! Hazel's just crazy with +joy--an' so'm I!" + +Mrs. Trapes fanned herself feebly with her apron. + +"All I can say is," said she faintly, "if the world don't come to an end +soon--I shall. A gardener's job! A cottage in th' country! Why, that's +what you've been hungerin' for, you an' Bowker, ever since I've known +ye. And to-day--it's come! An' to-day the rent's re-dooced itself fifty +per cent. by order--oh, dear land o' my fathers! When d' ye go?" + +"T'morrow mornin', Ann. Hazel'll sure grow a strong, well girl in th' +country--doctor said so last week--you heard him, Mr. Geoffrey, didn't +you?" + +"I did, Mrs. Bowker." + +"And my Tom's that excited he couldn't eat no supper--oh, an' have ye +seen in t'night's paper, Ann, about Mulligan's?" + +"No--what now?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, as though on the verge of +collapsing. + +"Well, read that--right there!" and unfolding an evening paper, Mrs. +Bowker pointed to a paragraph tucked away into a corner, and, drawing a +deep breath, Mrs. Trapes read aloud as follows: + +It is understood that Geoffrey Ravenslee, the well-known sportsman and +millionaire, winner of last year's International Automobile race and +holder of the world's long-distance speed record, has lately paid a +record price in a real estate deal. A certain tenement building off Tenth +Avenue has been purchased by him, the cost of which, it is rumoured, was +fabulous. + +"Fab'lous!" repeated Mrs. Trapes, and sniffed. "Well, I never had +no use fer millionaires, anyway--they're generally fools or rogues--this +one's a fool sure--any one is as would give much fer a place like +Mulligan's--an' yet, come t' think of it again--'are warned as all rents +will be re-dooced fifty per cent. by order'--yes, come t' think of it +again, what I say is--God bless this millionaire, an' whatever he is, +Ann Angelina Trapes is sure goin' t' mention him before th' Throne this +night." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +WHICH SHOULD HAVE RELATED DETAILS OF A WEDDING + + +"It's all very, very wonderful, Ann, dear! But then--everything is so +wonderful--just lately!" + +"Meanin' what, Hermy?" + +Hermione was darning one of Spike's much-mended socks, while Mrs. Trapes +sat drinking tea. "Meanin' jest what is wonderful, my dear, and--since +when?" she persisted. + +"Oh--everything, Ann!" + +"Yes, you said everything before. S'pose you tell me jest the one thing +as you find so wonderful? An'--why an' wherefore that blush?" + +"Oh, Ann--Ann, dear!" Down went sock and needle and, falling on her +knees, Hermione clasped her arms about Mrs. Trapes and hid her glowing +face in her lap. "Ann, dear, I'm so happy!" she sighed--her speech a +little muffled by reason of the voluminous folds of Mrs. Trapes's snowy +apron. + +"Happy?" said Mrs. Trapes, setting down her teacup to fondle and stroke +that shapely head, "sich happiness ain't all because of the rent bein' +re-dooced, by order, I reckon--is it?" + +"Dear Ann," said Hermione, her face still hidden, "can't you guess?" + +"No, my dear," answered Mrs. Trapes, her harsh tones wonderfully soft, +"I don't have to--I guessed days ago. D' ye love him, Hermy?" + +"Love him!" repeated Hermione, and said no more, nor did she lift her +bowed head, but feeling the quick, strong pressure of those soft, +embracing arms, the quiver of that girlish body, Mrs. Trapes smiled, +and stooping, kissed Hermione's shining hair. + +"When did he speak, my dear?" + +"Last Monday, Ann." + +"Did he say--much?" + +"He asked me to--marry him." + +"Spoke of marriage, eh? Did he happen t' mention th' word--wife?" + +"Oh, many times, Ann." + +"Good f'r him! An' when's it t' be?" + +"Oh, Ann, dear, I--I'm afraid it's--to-night!" + +"T'night? My land, he's sure some hasty!" + +"And so--so masterful, Ann!" + +"Well, y' sure need a master. But t'night--land sakes!" + +"He wrote and told me he would fix things so he could marry me to-night, +Ann!" + +"Then he's sure out fixin' 'em right now. Lord, Hermy, why d' ye +tremble, girl--y' sure love him, don't ye?" + +"So much, Ann, so very much--and yet--" + +"You ain't scared of him, are ye?" + +"No--and yet, I--I think I am--a little." + +"But you'll marry him, all the same?" + +"Yes." + +"An' t'night?" + +"Yes. But Ann, dear, when he comes in I want you to keep him with you as +long as you can--will you?" + +"Why, sure I'll keep him, jest as long as--he'll let me! Lord, t' think +as my little Hermy'll be a married woman this night!" + +"And--oh, Ann, I haven't any--trousseau--" + +"Shucks! You don't need none. You're best as you are. You won't need no +fluffs an' frills, I reckon." + +"But, Ann dear," said Hermione, lifting her head and shaking it +ruefully, "I have--nothing! And my best dress--I made it in such a +hurry, you remember--it needs pressing and--" + +"He ain't marryin' you fer your clo'es, Hermy--no, sir! It's you he +wants an'--oh, shucks! What do clo'es matter t' you, anyway? You was +meant to be one o' them nymphs an' goddesses as went about clad--well, +airy. You'd ha' done fine with them soft arms an' shoulders an'--" + +"But I'm not a goddess, Ann, I'm only poor Hermy Chesterton--with a +hole in one stocking and the lace on her petticoat torn, and her other +things--well, look here!" and up whirled gown and petticoat, "see what a +state they're in--look, Ann!" + +"My dear, I am!" nodded Mrs. Trapes over her teacup, "an' what I say is, +it don't matter a row o' pins if a stockin' 's got a bit of a hole in it +if that stockin' 's on sich a leg as that! An' as fer--" + +"But," sighed Hermione, "don't you understand--" + +"My dear, I do! I was a married woman once, mind. An' I tell you 'beauty +doth lie in the eye o' the beholder', my dear, an' the two eyes as is +a-goin' t' behold you this night is goin' t' behold so much beauty as +they won't behold nothin' else." + +"But--he loves dainty things, I'm sure." + +"Well, ain't he gettin' a dainty thing? Ain't he gettin' th' daintiest, +sweetest, loveliest--" Here Mrs. Trapes set down her cup again to clasp +Hermione in her arms. + +"Do you think he'll--understand, Ann?" + +"He'll be a fool if he doesn't!" + +"And make allowances? He knows how poor we are and how busy I have to +be." + +"He does so, my dear. But, if it's goin' t' comfort you any, there's +that corset cover you made me last Christmas. I ain't never wore it; +I ain't dared to with all them trimmin's an' lace insertion, an' me s' +bony here an' there. You can have it an' willin', my dear, an' then +there's them--" + +"Ann, you dear thing, as if I would!" + +"Why not? That corset cover's a dream! An' then there's them--" + +"Dear, I couldn't--I wouldn't! No, I'll go to him just as I am--he +shall marry me just like I am--" + +"An' that's a goddess!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "yes, a young goddess--only, +with more clo'es on, o' course. I'm glad as he's quit peanuts; peanut +men don't kind o' jibe in with goddesses." + +"Ann," said Hermione, sitting back on her heels, "I think of him a great +deal, of course, and--just lately--I've begun to wonder--" + +"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, blowing her tea, "so do I! I been wonderin' +ever since he walked into my flat, cool as I don't know what, an', my +dear, when I sets me mind t' wonderment, conclusions arrive--constant! +I'll tell ye what I think. First, he ain't s' poor as he seems--he wears +silk socks, my dear. Second, he's been nurtured tender--he cleans them +white teeth night an' morn. Third, he ain't done no toil-an'-spinnin' +act--take heed t' his hands, my dear. He's soft-spoke but he's +masterful. He's young, but he's seen a lot. He ain't easy t' rile, but +when he is--my land! He don't say a lot, an' he don't seem t' do much, +an' yet--he don't seem t' starve none. Result--he may be anything!" + +"Anything? Ann, dear!" + +"Anything!" repeated Mrs. Trapes. "An' havin' studied him good an' +heeded him careful, I now conclood he's jest the thing you need, my +dear." + +"Then you like him, Ann--you trust him?" + +"I sure do." + +"Oh, you dear--dear--dear thing!" And once again Mrs. Trapes was clasped +in those vigorous young arms and kissed with every "dear." + +"Though, mind you," said Mrs. Trapes, pushing cup and saucer out of +harm's way, "though, mind you, he's a mystery I ain't found out--yet. D' +ye s'pose he made any money out o' them blessed peanuts--not him! Mrs. +Smalley, as lives down along 'Leventh, she told me as she's seen him +givin' 'em away by the bagful t' all the children down her +way--repeated!" + +"How sweet of him!" said Hermione, her red mouth all tender curves. + +"Yes, but how did he live? How does he? How will he?" + +"I don't know, dear; I only know I would trust him always--always!" And +sitting back, chin in hand, Hermione fell again to happy thought. + +"When he give up the nuts," pursued Mrs. Trapes, draining the teapot and +sighing, "he tells me some fool tale of makin' a deal in real estate, +an' I--ha, real estate!" Mrs. Trapes put down the teapot with a jerk. +"A deal in real estate!" she repeated, and thereafter fell to such +unintelligible mutterings as "Record price! Fab'lous! No, it couldn't +be! An' yet--silk socks! 'On an' after above date all tenants soever +residin'--will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!'" Suddenly Mrs. Trapes +sat bolt upright. "My land!" she ejaculated, "oh, dear land o' my +fathers--if sech could be!" + +"Why, Ann," exclaimed Hermione, roused from her reverie, "whatever is +the matter?" + +"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, laying gentle hand on Hermione's blooming +cheek, "nothin'--nothin' 't all! I'm jest goin' over in my mind sich +small matters as silk socks an' toothbrushes, that's all." + +"But you do mean something--you always do." + +"Well--if I do this time, my dear, I'm crazy--but the Bowkers have gone, +mind that! An' him s' fond o' little Hazel!" Here Mrs. Trapes nodded +almost triumphantly. + +"The Bowkers? Why, yes--I've been wondering--" + +"I guess you know he went t' O'Rourke's an' give that M'Ginnis the +thrashin' of his dirty life?" said Mrs. Trapes rather hastily. "Nigh +killed the loafer, Spider Connolly told me." + +"He's so strong," said Hermione softly, her eyes shining. "But, Ann, +what did you mean about--about toothbrushes and socks?" + +"Mean? Why, socks an' toothbrushes, o' course. An' my land! here's me +guzzlin' tea, an' over in my kitchen th' finest shin o' beef you ever +saw a-b'ilin' f'r his supper. But now the question as burns is, if a +married man this night, will he be here t' eat? An' if him--then you? +An' if man an' wife suppin' in my parlour--where will ye sleep?" + +"I--oh, Ann--I don't know. His letter just said that when I came home it +would be our--wedding night!" + +"Why, then it sure will be. An' f'r a weddin' supper, y' couldn't have +nothin' better 'n shin o' beef. I'll go an' watch over that stoo with +care unfailin', my dear; believe me, that stoo's goin' t' be a stoo as +is a stoo! What, half after five? Land sakes, how time flies!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +IN WHICH HERMIONE MAKES A FATEFUL DECISION + + +When Mrs. Trapes was gone, Hermione stood a long time to look at herself +in her little mirror, viewing and examining each feature of her lovely, +intent face more earnestly than she had ever done before; and sometimes +she smiled, and sometimes she frowned, and all her thought was: + +"Shall I make him happy, I wonder? Can I be all he wants--all he thinks +I am?" + +So, after some while, she combed and brushed out her glorious hair, +shyly glad because of its length and splendour; and, having crowned her +shapely head with it, viewed the effect with cold, hypercritical eyes. + +"Can I, oh, can I ever be all he wants--all he thinks I am?" + +And then she proceeded to dress; the holey stockings were replaced by +others that had seen less service; the worn frills and laces were +changed for others less threadbare. This done, Hermione, with many +supple twists, wriggled dexterously into her best dress, pausing now and +then to sigh mournfully and grieve over its many deficiencies and +shortcomings, defects which only feminine eyes, so coldly critical, +might hope to behold. + +Scarcely was all this accomplished when she heard a soft knock at the +outer door, and at the sound her heart leapt; she flushed and paled and +stood a moment striving to stay the quick, heavy throbbing within her +bosom; then breathlessly she hastened along the passage and, opening the +door with trembling hands, beheld Bud M'Ginnis. While she stared, dumb +and amazed, he entered and, closing the door, leaned his broad back +against it. + +"Goin' away, Hermy?" he enquired softly, looking her over with his slow +gaze. + +"Yes." + +"Goin' far, Hermy?" + +"I don't know." + +"Goin'--alone, Hermy?" + +"Why are you here? What do you want?" + +"T' save ye from--hell!" he answered, his voice rising loud and harsh on +the last word. "Oh, I know," he went on fiercely, "I know why you're all +dolled up in your best. I know as you mean t' go away to-night with--him. +But you ain't goin', girl--you ain't." + +"To-night," she said gently, "is my wedding night." + +M'Ginnis lifted a hand and wrenched at the silken neckerchief he wore as +though it choked him. + +"No!" he cried, "you ain't a-goin' t' get no wedding, Hermy; he don't +mean t' give ye a square deal. He's foolin' ye--foolin' ye, girl! Oh," +said he through shut teeth, "ye thought I was safe out o' the way, I +guess. You ought t' known better; th' p'lice couldn't hold me, they +never will. Anyway, I've kept tabs on ye--I know as you've been meeting +him--in a wood! I know," here M'Ginnis seemed to choke again, "I know of +you an' him--kissin' an' cuddlin'--oh, I've kept tabs on ye--" + +"Yes," she said gently, "I saw your spy at work." + +"But y' can't deny it. Y' don't deny it! Say, what kind o' girl are +you?" + +"The kind that doesn't fear men like you." + +"But y' can't deny meetin' him," he repeated, his hoarse voice +quivering; "you don't deny--kissin' him--in a wood! Only deny it, Hermy, +only say you didn't, an' I'll choke th' life out of any guy as says you +did--only deny it, Hermy." + +"But I don't want to deny it. If your spy had ears he can tell you that +we are going to be married. Now go." + +Once more M'Ginnis reached up to his throat and trenched off the +neckerchief altogether. + +"Married!" he cried, "an' t' him! He's foolin' ye, Hermy, by God he is! +Girl, I'm tellin' ye straight an' true--he'll never marry ye. His kind +don't marry Tenth Av'ner girls--Nooport an' Fifth Av'ner's a good ways +from Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't ever come t'gether, +I reckon." + +"Ah!" sighed she, falling back a step, "what do you mean?" + +"Why, I mean," said M'Ginnis, twisting the neckerchief in his powerful +hands much as if it had been the neck of some enemy, "I mean as this guy +as comes here bluffin' about bein' down an' out, this guy as plays at +sellin' peanuts is--Geoffrey Ravenslee, the millionaire." + +"But--he is--Arthur's friend!" + +"Friend--nothin'!" said he, wringing and wrenching at the neckerchief, +"I guess you ain't found out how th' Kid an' him came t' meet, eh? Well, +I'll tell ye--listen! Your brother broke in to this millionaire's swell +house--through the winder--an' this millionaire caught him." + +"Oh," said she, smiling in bitter scorn, "what a clumsy liar you are, +Bud M'Ginnis!" + +"No," he cried eagerly, "no, I ain't tellin' ye no lies; it's God's own +truth I'm givin' ye." + +"No, you're just a liar, Bud M'Ginnis!" and she would have turned from +him, but his savage grip stayed her. + +"A liar, am I?" he cried. "Why, then, you're sister to a crook, see! +Your brother's a thief! a crook! You ain't got much t' be s' proud +over--" + +"Let me go!" + +"Listen! Your brother got into this guy's house t' steal, and this +millionaire guy caught him--in the act! An' havin' nothin' better t' do, +he makes young Spike bring him down here--just t' see th' kind o' folks +as lives in Hell's Kitchen, see? Then he meets you--you look kind o' +good t' him, so he says t' th' Kid, 'Look here,' he says, 'you help me +game along with y'r sister, an' we'll call it quits--'" + +Breaking from his hold, Hermione entered the little parlour, and +sinking down beside the table, crouched there, hiding her face, while +M'Ginnis, leaning in the doorway, watched her, his strong hands twisting +and wrenching at the neckerchief. + +"Ah, leave me now!" she pleaded, "you've done enough, so--go now--go!" + +"Oh, I'll go. I come here t' put ye wise--an' I have! You're on to it +all now, I guess. Nooport and Fifth Av'ner's a good ways from Hell's +Kitchen and Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't never come together. I guess +there's sure some difference between this swell guy with all his +millions an' a Tenth Av'ner girl as is a--thief's sister--" + +Slowly Hermione lifted her head and looked up at him, and M'Ginnis saw +that in her face which struck him mute; the neckerchief fell from his +nerveless fingers and lay there all unheeded. + +"Hermione," he muttered, "I--girl, are ye--sick?" + +"Go!" she whispered, "go!" + +And turning about, M'Ginnis stumbled out of the place and left her +alone. For a long time she sat there, motionless and crouched above the +table, staring blindly before her, and in her eyes an agony beyond +tears, heedless of the flight of time, conscious only of a pain sharper +than flesh can know. Suddenly a key was thrust in the lock of the outer +door, footsteps sounded along the passage accompanied by a merry +whistling, and Spike appeared. + +"Hello, Hermy, ain't tea ready yet?" he enquired, tossing aside his +straw hat and opening a newspaper he carried, "say, the Giants are sure +playin' great ball this season--what, are ye asleep?" + +"No, dear!" + +"Why, Hermy," he exclaimed, dropping the paper and clasping an arm about +her, "Oh, Hermy--what is it?" + +"Oh, boy--dear, dear boy--you didn't, did you?" she cried feverishly. +"You are a little wild--sometimes, dear, just a little--but you are +good--and honourable, aren't you?" + +"Why, yes, Hermy I--I try t' be," he answered uneasily; "but I don't +know what you mean." + +"You're not a thief, are you? You're not a burglar? You never broke into +any one's house. I know you didn't, but--tell me you didn't--tell me you +didn't!" + +"No--no, o' course not," stammered Spike and, averting his head, tried +to draw away, but she clung to him all the closer. + +"Boy--boy dear," she whispered breathlessly, "oh, boy, look at me!" + +But seeing he kept his face still turned from her, she set a hand to his +cheek and very gently forced him to meet her look. For a long moment she +gazed thus--saw how his eyes quailed, saw how his cheek blanched, and as +he cowered away, she rose slowly to her feet, and into her look came a +growing horror; beholding which Spike covered his face and shrank away +from her. + +"Oh, boy--" her voice had sunk to a whisper now, "oh, boy--say you +didn't!" + +"Hermy--I--can't--" + +"Can't?" + +"It's--it's all--true. Yes, I did! Oh, Hermy, forgive me." + +"Tell me!" + +"Oh, forgive me, Hermy, forgive me!" he cried, reaching out and trying +to catch her hand. "Yes, I'll tell ye. I--I got in--through th' winder, +an' Geoff caught me. But he let me go again--he said he'd never tell +nobody if--ah, don't look at me like that!" + +"If--what?" + +"If I'd bring him back here with me--Hermy, don't! Your eyes hurt +me--don't look at me that way." + +"So it--is--all--true!" + +"Oh, forgive me, forgive me!" he pleaded, throwing himself on his knees +before her and writhing in the anguish of remorse. "They doped me, +Hermy, I--didn't know what I was doin'--they didn't give me no time t' +think. Oh, forgive me, Hermy; Geoff forgave me, an' you must--oh, God, +you must, Hermy!" Again he sought to reach her hand, but now it was she +who shrank away. + +"I loved you so--I--loved--you so!" she said dully. + +"Hermy," he cried, catching hold of her dress, "forgive me--just this +once, for God's sake! I ain't got nobody in the world but you--forgive +me!" And now his pleading was broken by fierce sobs, and he sought to +hide his tear-stained face in the folds of her dress, but she drew it +quickly from him, shrinking away almost as if she feared him. + +"A thief!" she whispered, "oh, God--my brother a thief! I don't +seem--able to--think. Go away--go away, I--must be--alone!" + +"Hermy, dear, I swear--oh, I swear I'll--" + +"Go away!" + +"Oh, Hermy, I didn't think you'd ever--turn away--from me." + +"Go away!" + +"Oh, Hermy--won't you listen?" + +"I can't! Not now. Go away." + +Sobbing, the boy got to his feet, and taking his hat, crossed +slow-footed to the door; there he paused to look back at her, but her +staring eyes gazed through him and, turning hopelessly away, he brushed +his sleeve across his cheek and, treading slow and heavily along the +passage, was gone. + +Dry-eyed she stood awhile, then sank again beside the table and crouched +there with face bowed between outstretched arms, and hands tight +clenched. Evening began to fall, but still she sat huddled there, +motionless, and uttering no sound, and still her eyes were tearless. +At last she stirred, conscious of a quick, firm step near by, and, +thrilling to that sound, rose and stood with her back to the fading +light as Ravenslee entered. + +"Dear," said he, tender and eager, "I found the door open--did you leave +it for me? Why, Hermione--oh, my love, what is it?" and he would have +caught her to him, but she held him away and questioned him, +quick-breathing: + +"You are--Geoffrey Ravenslee--the millionaire--aren't you?" + +"Why--er--I--I'm afraid I am," he stammered. "I'm sorry you found it out +so soon, dearest; I wanted to tell you after we--" + +"Oh, why didn't you tell me before--why didn't you? No--please wait! +You--you caught my--brother, didn't you?" she went on breathlessly; "he +had broken in--was burgling your house, wasn't he--wasn't he?" + +"How in the world," began Ravenslee, flinching, "who told--" + +"He broke into your house to--steal, didn't he--didn't he?" + +"But, good heavens--that was all forgotten and done with long ago! +They'd made the poor chap drunk--he didn't know what he was doing--it's +all forgotten long ago! Dear heart, why are you so pale? God, +Hermione--nothing can alter our love!" + +"No, nothing can alter our love," she repeated in the same dull tones. +"Oh, no, nothing can ever alter that; even though you deceived me I +shall always love you, I can't help it. And just because I do love you +so, and because I am a thief's sister, I--oh, I can never be your +wife--I couldn't, could I?" + +"By God, Hermione, but you shall!" As he spoke he caught her in his +arms, passionate arms that drew and held her close. Very still and +unresisting she lay in his embrace, uttering no word; and stooping, he +kissed her fiercely--her lips, her eyes, her white throat, her hair, +and, silent still, she yielded herself to his caresses. + +"You are mine, Hermione, mine always and forever! You are the one woman +I long for--the wife nature intended for me! You are mine, Hermione!" + +Very softly she answered, her eyes closed: + +"I felt at the first there was a gulf dividing us--and now--this gulf +is wider--so wide it can never be crossed by either of us. Your world is +not my world, after all--you are Geoffrey Ravenslee and I am only--what +I am. Newport and Fifth Avenue are a long way from Hell's Kitchen and +Tenth Avenue, and they can never--never come together. And I--am a +thief's sister, so please, please loose me--oh, have mercy and--let me +go." + +His arms fell from her and, shivering, she sank beside the table, and +the pale agony of her face smote him. + +"But you love me, Hermione?" he pleaded. + +"If I had only known," she sighed, "I might not have learned to love +you--quite so much! If I had only known!" Her voice was soft and low, +her blue eyes wide and tearless, and because of this, he trembled. + +"Hermione," said he gently, "all this week I have been planning for you +and Arthur. I have been dreaming of our life together, yours and mine, +a life so big, so wonderful, so full of happiness that I trembled, +sometimes, dreading it was only a dream. Dear, the gates of our paradise +are open; will you shut me out? Must I go back to my loneliness?" + +"I shall be lonely, too!" she murmured brokenly. "But better, oh, far +better loneliness than that some day--" she paused, her lips quivering. + +"Some day, Hermione?" + +"You should find that you had married not only a scrubwoman but--the +sister of a--thief!" Suddenly she sprang to her feet, her clinging arms +held him to her bosom and, drawing down his head, she pressed her mouth +to his; holding him thus, she spoke, her voice low and quick and +passionate: + +"Oh, my love, my love! I do love you with every thought, with every part +of me--so much, so very much that my heart is breaking, I think. But, +dearest, my love is such that I would be everything fair and beautiful +for you, everything proud and good and noble for you if I could. But I +am only Hermy Chesterton, a Tenth Avenue girl, and--my brother--So I'm +going to send you away, back to your own world, back to your own kind +because--because I do love you so! Ah, God, never doubt my love, +but--you must go--" + +"Never, Hermione, never!" + +"You must! You will, I know, because your love is a big, generous +love--because you are chivalrous and strong and gentle--because I beg +and implore you if you have any pity for me--go--" + +"But why?--Why?" + +"Oh, must I tell you that--can't you understand?" + +"Why must I go, Hermione?" + +"Because," she murmured, her yearning arms close about him, her face +close hidden against his breast, "because I'll never--marry +you--now--but I love you--love you so much that I'm afraid--ah, not of +you. So, I must be alone--quite alone--to fight my battle. And now--now +that I've shown you all my heart, told you all my weakness, you'll go +for my sake--just for my sake--won't you?" + +"Yes--I'll--go!" he answered slowly. + +"Away from here--to-night?" + +"Yes," he answered hoarsely, "yes!" + +Then Hermione fell suddenly before him on her knees, and, before he +could stay her, had caught his hands, kissing them, wetting them with +her tears, and pressing them passionately to her bosom. + +"I knew," she cried, "I knew that you were strong and gentle and--good. +Good-by--oh, my love--good-by!" + +"Hermione," said he, kissing her bowed head, "oh, my Hermione, I love +you with a love that will die only when I do. I want you, and I'll never +lose hope of winning you--some day, never give up my determination to +marry you--never, so help me God!" + +Then swiftly he turned away but, reaching the door, stooped and picked +up M'Ginnis's neckerchief and, recognising it, crumpled it in fierce +hand; so, with it clenched in griping fingers, he hurried away and left +her there upon her knees. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE DEPARTED FROM HELL'S KITCHEN + + +"What, back again already, Mr. Geoffrey?" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, poking +her head around the kitchen door, as Ravenslee entered the flat, "back +so soon?" + +"Only for a minute, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Supper'll be ready soon--your wedding supper, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? You'll +have it here with me, you an' Hermy, o' course! Smells kind o' good, +don't it?" + +"Delicious, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"Delicious is the word, Mr. Geoffrey--stooed beef with carrots--" + +"And onions, Mrs. Trapes--onions, I'm sure?" + +"Well, I'll not deny a onion here an' there, Mr. Geoffrey--a stoo needs +'em." + +"Ah, I knew it!" sighed Ravenslee. "I grieve that I shan't be able to +eat it." + +"Not eat--what, you? Say, y' ain't sick, are you?" + +"Not in body, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Then why no stoo?" + +"Because I shan't be here. I'm going, Mrs. Trapes--I'm leaving +Mulligan's now--for good--" + +"Leavin'--y' mean with Hermy?" + +"No--alone. Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"My land!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, "what you tellin' me?" + +"Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!" + +"But why? Oh, dear Lord, what is it? Who--" + +"I want to thank you--for all your kindness. Good-by!" + +As one in a dream Mrs. Trapes extended a limp hand and stood wide of +eye and pale of cheek to watch him go; and as he descended the stairs, +her look of helpless, pained surprise went with him. Swiftly he strode +across that familiar court, shoulders squared, chin outthrust, and eyes +that glowed ominously in his pale face beneath fierce-scowling brows. As +he turned into Tenth Avenue there met him the Spider. + +"What you chasin' this time, bo?" he enquired. + +"M'Ginnis." + +"Then you're sure chasin' trouble." + +"That's what I want. D' you know where he is?" + +"Sure I do, but--" + +The Spider paused, drawing in his breath slowly, as with experienced +gaze he viewed Ravenslee's pale, set face--the delicate nostrils wide +and quivering, the relentless mouth and burning eyes and all the +repressed ferocity of him and, drawing back a step, the Spider shook his +head. + +"Bo," said he, "that's jest what I ain't goin' t' tell ye." + +"Very well, I must find him." + +"Don't!" said the Spider, walking on beside him, "if I didn't think a +whole lot o' ye, I'd lead ye t' him." + +"Oh--I shall find him, if it takes me all night." + +"An' if ye do, it'll be murder, I'm dead sure--" + +"Murder?" said Ravenslee with a flash of white teeth. "Well, I shall +certainly kill him--this time!" + +"Is it th' Kid again?" + +"No--oh, no, it's just for my own satisfaction--and pleasure." + +"You ain't heeled, are ye? This ain't goin' t' be no gun-play--eh?" + +"No, I haven't a gun, but I've brought his--neckerchief." + +"Sufferin' Pete!" murmured the Spider in a strangely awed voice, and +walked on in silence, chewing viciously. + +"Bo," said he at last, "I'm thinkin' th' kindest thing I could do would +be t' slip one over t' your point while you wasn't lookin', an' puttin' +you t' sleep a bit--you want soothin'! Bud'll be too big fer you or any +other guy t' tackle now; ye see, his stock's rose--th' Noo Jersey +p'lice wasn't strong enough t' hold him--" + +"That's where I'm different--I can!" said Ravenslee, opening and +shutting his right hand convulsively. "Yes, I'll hold him till his last +kick--and after!" + +"My God!" exclaimed the Spider softly, and, beholding that clutching +right hand, he edged away. + +"Where you goin' t' look fer him?" he enquired after a while. + +"O'Rourke's!" + +"Why not try Raynor's first?" and he nodded to a saloon on the adjacent +corner. + +"Because I'm not a fool." + +"Bo, I ain't s' sure o' that! O'Rourke's'll be full o' tough guys +t'night; all th' bunch'll be there, an' if Bud tips 'em th' say-so, +they'll snuff your light out quicker 'n winkin'." + +"That wouldn't be such a hardship." + +"Oh, so that's it, hey? You got a kiss-me-an'-let-me-die sort o' +feelin', hey? Some nice bit o' stuff been turnin' ye down, bo?" + +"That'll be about enough!" said Ravenslee, quick and fierce; and, +meeting the flash of his eye, the Spider edged away again. + +"Sufferin' Mike!" said he, "you sure ain't doin' the affable chat stunt +t'night!" + +But Ravenslee strode along in silence, and the Spider, heeding the pale, +set ferocity of his expression, grew troubled. + +"Say," said he at last, "this don't happen t' be th' night as you've +fixed up t' smash th' gang, does it?" + +"No--only M'Ginnis." + +"S'posin' he ain't at O'Rourke's?" + +"He'll be somewhere else." + +"Bo, if I was your ma, I should be prayin' you don't find Bud, yes, sir! +An' I should pray--dam' hard!" + +By this time they had reached Eleventh Avenue and were close upon the +saloon when Ravenslee halted suddenly, for, beneath a lamp on the +opposite sidewalk, he saw M'Ginnis in talk with two other men. + +Drawing the neckerchief from his pocket, Ravenslee crossed over and +tapped M'Ginnis on the arm, who, turning about, stared into a pallid +face within a foot of his own. + +"What th' hell--" he began, but Ravenslee cut him short. + +"You left this behind you," said he, thrusting forward the neckerchief, +"so I've brought it to twist around that foul throat of yours. Now, +M'Ginnis--fight!" + +Thrusting the neckerchief into his pocket, Ravenslee clenched his fists, +and, saying no more, they closed and fought--not as men, but rather as +brute beasts eager to maim and rend. + +M'Ginnis's companions, dumbfounded by the sudden ferocity of it all, +stood awhile inactive, staring at those two forms that lurched and +swayed, that strove and panted, grimly speechless. Then, closing in, +they waited an opportunity to smite down M'Ginnis's foe from behind. But +the Spider was watching, and, before either of them could kick or +strike, his fists thudded home--twice--hard blows aimed with scientific +precision; after which, having dragged the fallen away from those +fierce-trampling feet, he stood, quivering and tense, to watch that +desperate encounter. + +Once Ravenslee staggered back from a vicious flush-hit, and once +M'Ginnis spun around to fall upon hands and knees; then they clenched, +and coming to the ground together, fought there, rolling to and fro and +hideously twisted together. But slowly Ravenslee's clean living began +to tell, and M'Ginnis, wriggling beneath a merciless grip, uttered +inarticulate cries and groaned aloud. And now the deadly neckerchief +was about his gasping throat and in his ears his conqueror's fierce +laugh--lost all at once in a roar of voices, a rush of trampling feet. + +Wrenched at by fierce hands, smitten by unseen fists, Ravenslee was +beaten down--was dimly aware of the Spider's long legs bestriding him, +and staggering up through a tempest of blows, hurled himself among his +crowding assailants, felled one with his right, stopped another with his +left, and, as the press broke to the mad fury of his onslaught, felt his +hand wrenched from a man's windpipe and heard a frantic voice that +panted: + +"Leg it, bo, leg it. Hully Chee! ain't ye had enough?" So, mechanically, +he set off at a run, with his arm still gripped by the Spider. "Leg it, +bo--leg it good, or here's where we snuff it sure! This way--round th' +corner; only keep goin', bo, keep goin'." + +Very fleetly they ran with their pursuers close on their heels, across +open lots, over fences, along tortuous alleys, until the rush and patter +of the many feet died away, and the Spider, pulling up at the corner of +a dismal, narrow street hard by the river, stood awhile to listen. + +"Jiminy Christmas! but you're some hot stuff at the swattin' +business--you're a glutton, you are, bo. I been in one or two scraps +meself, but I never seen a guy so hungry for--" + +"Where are we?" + +"Thirteenth an' Twentieth." + +"Are we safe?" + +"F' th' time, I reckon. But all Hell's Kitchen'll be out after us +t'night, sure. So I guess it's us for th' immediate hike--" + +"Us? Will they be after you, too?" + +"Well," said the Spider, smiling down grimly at his damaged, knuckles, +"I guess yes! Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner's got t' get along without +me from now on, I reckon. They ain't losin' much, an' I ain't leavin' +much, but--" + +"Why the devil had you got to follow me to-night?" demanded Ravenslee, +scowling. + +"Bo," said the Spider as they went on again, "there's times when my +likin' f'r you gets a pain; there's times when y'r talk gives me th' +earache, an' y'r lovin' looks the willies. I ain't lookin' f'r no +gratitood, nor yet a gold dinner-set an' loominated address, but, not +ownin' a hide like a sole-leather Saratoga, I'll jest get on me way--S' +long!" + +"Where are you going?" + +"I dunno, but--I'm goin' there, right now." + +But as the Spider turned away, his hand was caught and gripped, and +Ravenslee was smiling; his features looked a bit battered, but his smile +was pleasant as ever. + +"Forgive my cursed temper, Spider. I owe you my life again and--I ought +to be grateful, I suppose. Forgive me, I'm--not quite myself to-night." + +"Sure thing!" said the Spider, returning his grasp, "but, bo, I'm kind +o' wonderin' in me little mind what Bud's feelin' like! You sure swatted +him good an' heavy. I never seen cleaner footwork, an' them left jabs o' +yours--" + +"The question is, how do you feel, Spider, and what are you going to +do?" + +The pugilist scratched his rough chin. "Well, that's what gets my goat; +I dunno quite, bo. Y' see, I shan't be able t' get no more fights here +in the East now, not wi' Bud 'n' his old man against me--y' see, Bud's +old man's about the biggest--" + +"I wonder if you'd care to come with me?" + +"Whaffor?" + +"Well, for one thing, I need another chauffeur and--" + +"A--what?" The Spider halted under a lamp-post to stare at Ravenslee a +little anxiously. "Say, now, take a holt of ye'self an' jest put that +one over th' plate again--you need a--what?" + +"Another chauffeur." + +"Another shuvver--another? Bo, y' didn't happen t' get a soak on th' +bean just now, did ye?" + +"No." + +"Well, then, I guess you're some shook up; what you want's food, right +now!" + +"Why, yes, now you mention it, I'm devilish hungry," agreed Ravenslee. + +"Leave it t' me, bo--I know a chewin'-joint close by--soup, joint, +sweets, an' coffee an' only a quarter a throw--some feed, bo! Shin right +along, I'll--" + +"No, you shall come home and dine with me." + +"Home?" repeated the Spider, halting to stare again; "you're sure +talkin' ramblin'--" + +"We can discuss the chauffeur's job then--" + +"Shuvver?" said the Spider uneasily. "But what's a guy like you want +with a shuvver?" + +"Well, to drive my car--and--" + +"Car?" said the Spider, his uneasiness growing, "got a car now, have ye, +bo?" + +"I rather think I've got six." + +"Sufferin' Sam!" The Spider scratched his chin while his keen eyes roved +over Ravenslee's exterior apprehensively. "Say, bo, you quite sure none +o' th' bunch booted you on th' dome--eh?" + +"Quite sure." + +"An' yet you got six auter-mobiles. I say--you think so." + +"Now I think again, they're seven with the newest racer." + +"Say, now, jest holt still a minute! Now, swaller twice, think dam' +hard, an' tell me again! You got how many?" + +"Seven!" + +"Got anythin' else?" + +"Oh, yes, a few things." + +"Tell us jest one." + +"Well, a yacht." + +"Oh, a yacht?" + +"A yacht." + +"'S 'nuff, bo, 's 'nuff! But go on--go on, get it all off if you'll feel +better after. Anythin' more?" + +"Why, yes, about twenty or thirty houses and castles and palaces and +things--" + +"That settles it sure!" sighed the Spider. "You're comin' t' see a +doctor, that's what! Your dome's sure got bent in with a boot or +somethin'." + +"No, Spider, I just happen to be born the son of a millionaire, that's +all." + +"Think o' that, now!" nodded the Spider, "a millionaire now--how nice! +An' what do they call ye at home?" + +"Geoffrey Ravenslee." + +"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, falling back a step. "The guy as went +ten rounds with Dick Dunoon at th' 'National?' The guy as won th' +Auter-mobile Race? Th' guy as bought up Mulligan's--you?" + +"Why, yes. By the way, I sat in the front row and watched you lick Larry +McKinnon at 'Frisco; I was afraid you were going to recognise me, once +or twice." + +"Then, you--you _have_ got a yacht, th' big one as lays off Twenty-third +Street?" + +"Also seven cars; that's why I want you for a chauffeur." + +"Ho-ly Gee!" murmured the dazed Spider. "Well, say, you sure have got me +goin'! A millionaire! A peanut cart! A yacht! Well, say, I--I guess it's +time I got on me way. S' long!" + +"No you don't, my Spider; you're coming home with me." + +"What--me? Not much I ain't--no, sir! I ain't no giddy gink t' go dinin' +with millionaires in open-faced clo'es--not me!" + +"But you're coming to have dinner with that same peanut man who learned +to respect you because you were a real, white man, Spider Connolly. And +that's another reason why I want you for my chauffeur." + +"But--say, I--I can't shuv." + +"Joe shall teach you." + +"Joe? Y' mean--Joe Madden?" + +"He'll be chauffeur number one--and there's a cross-town car! Come on, +Spider! Now--in with you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES A HAND + + +O'Rourke's was full: its long bar, shaped something like the letter J, +supported many lounging arms and elbows; its burnished foot-rail was +scraped by boots of many shapes and sizes; its heavy air, thick with +cigarette smoke, hummed with many voices. In one corner, a remote corner +where few ventured to penetrate, Soapy leaned, as pallid and +noncommittal as ever, while Spike poured out to him the story of his +woes. + +"She drove me out, Soapy! She drove me away from her!" he repeated for +the hundredth time. The boy was unnaturally flushed and bright of eye, +and his voice was as shaky as the hand which fidgeted with his whisky +glass; and the sense of his wrongs was great and growing greater with +every sip. + +"She told me t' leave her! She drove me away from her--" + +"So you come here, eh, Kid?" drawled Soapy, pendent cigarette +smouldering. "You skinned over here t' Bud f' comfort, an' you'll sure +get it, Kid--in a glass!" + +"Bud's always good t' me--" + +"'S right, Kid, 's right, Bud's an angel sure, though he ain't got no +wings yet. Oh, Bud'll comfort ye--frequent, an' by an' by he'll take ye +back t' Hermy good an' soused; you can get your own back that ways--eh, +Kid? It'll sure make her sit up an' take notice when she sees ye come in +reelin' an' staggerin'--eh, Kid? An' to-morrow you'll be sick mebbe, an' +she'll have ter nurse ye--oh, Bud'll fix things fer ye, I guess." Spike +glowered and pushed his half-emptied glass further away. + +"I ain't goin' home soused!" he muttered. + +"No?" said Soapy, faintly surprised. "Bud'll feel kind o' hurt, won't +he?" + +"I ain't goin' home soused--not for Bud nor nobody else!" + +"Why, then, if I was you, Kid, I should beat it before Bud comes in." + +"I guess I will," said Spike, rising. + +But now was sudden uproar of voices in the street hard by, a running +and trampling of feet, and, the swing doors opening, a group of men +appeared, bearing among them a heavy burden; and coming to the quiet +corner they laid M'Ginnis there. Battered, bloody, and torn he lay, +his handsome features swollen and disfigured, his clothes dusty and +dishevelled, while above him and around him men stooped and peered and +whispered. + +"Why, it's--it's--Bud!" stammered Spike, shrinking away from that +inanimate form, "my God! It's--Bud!" + +"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy imperturbably, hands in pockets and, +though his voice sounded listless as ever, his eyes gleamed evilly, +and the dangling cigarette quivered and stirred. + +"Ain't--dead, is he?" some one questioned. + +"Dead--not much!" answered Soapy, "guess it's goin' to take more 'n that +t' make Bud a stiff 'un. Besides, Bud ain't goin' t' die that way, no, +not--that way, I reckon. Dead? Watch this!" So saying, he reached +Spike's half-emptied glass from the bar and, not troubling to stoop, +poured the raw spirit down upon M'Ginnis's pale, blood-smirched face. + +"Dead?" said Soapy. "Well, I guess not--look at him!" + +And, sure enough, M'Ginnis stirred, groaned, opened swollen eyelids and, +aided by some ready arm, sat up feebly. Then he glanced up at the ring +of peering faces and down upon his rent and dusty person, and fell to a +sudden, fierce torrent of curses; cursing thus, his strength seemed to +return all at once, for he sprang to his feet and with clenched fists +drove through the crowd, and lifting a flap in the bar, opened a door +beyond and was gone. + +"No," said Soapy, shaking his head, "I guess Bud ain't dead--yet, +fellers. I wonder who gave him that eye, Kid? An' his mouth too! Did ye +pipe them split lips! Kind o' painful, I guess. An' a couple o' teeth +knocked out too! Some punchin', Kid! An' Bud kind o' fancied them nice, +white teeth of his a whole heap!" + +Here the bartender glanced toward the corner where they stood, and, +lifting an eyebrow, jerked his thumb at the door behind him with the +words: "Kid, I reckon Bud wants ye." + +For a moment Spike hesitated then, lifting the mahogany flap, crossed +the bar, and opened the door. + +"Guess I'll come along, Kid," and, hands in pockets, Soapy followed. + +They found M'Ginnis sprawling at a table and scowling at the knuckles of +his bruised right hand while at his elbow were a bottle and two glasses. +He had washed the blood and dirt from him, had brushed and straightened +his dusty garments, but he couldn't hide the cuts and bruises that +disfigured his face, nor his scratched and swollen throat. + +"What you here for?" he demanded, as Soapy closed the door, "didn't send +for you, did I?" + +"No, that's why I come, Bud." + +"But, say, Bud, what--what's been th' matter?" stammered Spike, his gaze +upon M'Ginnis's battered face, "who's been--" + +"Matter? Nothin'! I had a bit of a rough-house as I come along--" + +"'S right," nodded Soapy, "you sure look it! Never seen a fatter eye--" + +"Well, what you got t' beef about?" + +"Nothin', Bud, only--" + +"Only what?" + +"It's kind o' tough you losin' them couple o' teeth--or is it three?" + +M'Ginnis turned on him with a snarl. "A-r-r-, you--! Some day I'm goin' +t' kick the insides out o' ye!" + +"Some day, Bud, sure. I'll be waitin'! Meantime why not get some +doctor-guy t' put ye face back in shape--gee, I hate t' see ye--you look +like a butcher's shop! An' them split lips pains some, I guess!" + +Here, while M'Ginnis choked in impotent rage, Soapy lit a fresh +cigarette from the butt of the last and held out the packet. + +"Try a coffin-nail, Bud? No? Well, I guess y' couldn't smoke good with a +mouth on ye like that." + +"Who did it, Bud?" questioned Spike eagerly. "Who was it?" + +"Hush up, Kid, hush up!" said Soapy, viewing M'Ginnis's cuts and bruises +with glistening eyes. "I guess that guy's layin' around somewheres +waitin' f'r th' coroner--Bud wouldn't let him make such a holy mess +of his face an' get away with it--not much! Bud's a killer, I know +that--don't I, Bud?" + +"You close up that dog's head o' yours, Soapy, or by--" + +"'S all right, Bud, 's all right. Don't get peeved; I'll close up +tighter 'n a clam, only--it's kinder tough about them teeth--" + +"Are ye goin' t' cut it out or shall--" + +"Aw, calm down, Bud, calm down! Take a drink; it'll do ye good." And +filling a glass with rye whisky, Soapy set it before M'Ginnis, who +cursed him, took it up, and turned to Spike. + +"Fill it up, Kid," he commanded. + +"Not me, Bud, I--I ain't here for that," said Spike. "I come t' tell ye +as some dirty guy's been an' blown th' game on me t' Hermy; she--she +knows everything, an' to-night she--drove me away from her--" + +"Did she, Kid, oh, did she?" said M'Ginnis, a new note of eagerness in +his voice. "Drove ye out onto th' streets, Kid? That's dam' hard on +you!" + +"Yes, Bud, I--guess she--don't want me around--" + +"Kind o' looks that way!" nodded M'Ginnis, and filling Spike's glass, +he put it into the boy's unwilling fingers. "Take a drink, Kid; ye sure +need it!" said he. + +"'S right," murmured Soapy, "told ye Bud 'ud comfort ye, didn't I, Kid?" + +"So Hermy's drove ye away?" said M'Ginnis, "throwed ye out--eh?" + +"She sure has, Bud, an' I--Oh, I'm miserable as hell!" + +"Why, then, get some o' Bud's comfort into ye, Kid," murmured Soapy. +"Lap it up good, Kid; there's plenty more--in th' bottle!" + +"Let him alone," growled M'Ginnis, "he don't want you buttin' in!" + +"'S right, too, Bud!" nodded Soapy, "he's got you, ain't he? An' +you--got him, ain't you?" + +"I didn't think Hermy 'ud ever treat me--like this!" said Spike +tearfully. + +"You mean--throwin' ye out into th' streets, Kid? Why, I been expectin' +it!" + +"Expectin' it?" repeated Spike, setting down his glass and staring, +"why?" + +"Well, she's a girl, ain't she, an' they're all th' same, I reckon--" + +"An' Bud knows all about girls, Kid!" murmured Soapy. "Bud's wise t' all +their tricks--ain't you, Bud?" + +"But whatcher mean?" cried Spike. "What ye mean about expectin' it?" + +"Well, she don't want ye no more, does she?" answered M'Ginnis, his +bruised hands fierce clenched, his voice hoarse and thick with passion. +"She's got some one else now--ain't she? She's--in love--ain't she? +She's all waked up an' palpitatin' for--for that dam'--" he choked, and +set one hand to his scratched throat. + +"What d'ye mean, Bud?" + +"Ah!" said Soapy, softer than before, "I'm on, Bud; you put me wise! He +means, Kid, as Hermy's in love with th' guy as has just been punchin' +hell out of him--he means your pal Geoff." With a hoarse, strangling +cry, M'Ginnis leapt up, his hand flashed behind him, and--he stood +suddenly very still, staring into the muzzle of the weapon Soapy had +levelled from his hip. + +"Aw, quit it, Bud, quit it," he sighed, "it ain't come t' that--yet. +Besides, the Kid's here, so loose ye gun, Bud. No, give it t'me; you're +a bit on edge t'night, I guess, an' it might go off an' break a glass or +somethin'. So gimme ye gun, Bud. That's it! Now we can sit an' talk real +sociable, can't we? Now listen, Bud--what you want is t' get your own +back on this guy Geoff, an' what th' Kid wants is t' show his sister as +he ain't a kid, an' what I want is t' give ye both a helpin' hand--" + +But while M'Ginnis stood scowling at the imperturbable speaker, Spike +rose, a little unsteadily, and turned to the door. + +"I'll be gettin' on me way, Bud," said he. + +"Where to?" + +"Home." + +"What! Back t' Hermy? After she turned ye out?" + +"But I--I got t' go somewheres--" + +"Well, you stay right here with me, Kid; I'll fix ye up all right--" + +"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy. "Bud'll fix ye all right, same as I +said; we'll have in another bottle when that's empty!" + +"What about your sister, Kid?" demanded M'Ginnis fiercely. "What about +Hermy an' this swell guy? Are y' goin' t' sit around an' do nothin'?" + +"But Geoff's goin' t' marry her." + +"Marry her! What, him? A millionaire marry your sister? You think so, +an' she thinks so, but I know different!" + +"But Hermy ain't that sort. Hermy's--good--" + +"Sure, but this guy's got her fazed--she thinks he's square all +right--she'll trust him an' then--s'posin' he ain't?" + +"I--I ain't s'posin' nothin' like that!" said Spike, gulping his +whisky. + +"Well, s'posin' he's been meetin' her--in a wood--on the sly--eh? +S'posin' they been huggin' an' kissin'--" + +"Say now--you cut that out--" stammered Spike, his voice thick. "I tell +ye--she ain't--that kind." + +"S'posin'," continued Bud, refilling the lad's glass, "s'posin' I could +show 'em to ye in a wood--eh? Ah! What she want t' meet him in a wood +for, anyway--nice an' quiet, eh?" + +"Say now, Bud, I--I ain't goin' t' listen t' no more!" said Spike, +rising and clutching at the table, "I--I'm goin' home!" And swaying on +unsteady feet, he turned to the door, but M'Ginnis gripped his shoulder. + +"Wait a bit, Kid." + +"N-no, I'm--goin' home--see!" said Spike, setting his jaw obstinately, +"I'm goin'--r-right now!" + +"That's just what you ain't!" snarled M'Ginnis. "Sit down! Hermy's only +a work-girl--don't forget that, Kid--an' this guy's a millionaire. I +guess he thinks Hermy'll do--till he gets tired of her an'--then what?" + +"He--told me he's goin' t' marry her!" said Spike slowly, speaking with +an effort, "an' I guess Geoff ain't a liar. An' I wanter--go home." + +"Home--after she throwed ye out? Ain't ye got no pride?" + +"Aw, say, Bud," sighed Soapy, "I guess d' Kid ain't soused enough for +pride yet; sling another glass int' him--that'll fix him good, I +reckon." + +"I ain't g-goin' t' drink no more," said Spike, resting heavy head +between his hands, "I guess I'll b-beat it home, f'lers." + +"Bud," suggested Soapy, "ain't it about time you rang in little Maggie +on him?" + +M'Ginnis whirled upon the speaker, snarling, but Soapy, having lighted +another cigarette, nudged Spike with a sharp elbow. + +"Kid," said he, "Bud's goin' t' remind ye of little Maggie Finlay--you +remember little Maggie as drowned herself." Spike lifted a pale face +and stared from the placid Soapy to scowling Bud and shrank away. + +"Yes," he whispered hoarsely, "yes--I'll never forget how she +looked--pale, so pale an' still, an' th' water--runnin' out of her brown +curls--I--I'll never forget--" + +"Well," growled M'Ginnis, "watch out Hermy don't end th' same way." + +"No!" cried Spike. "Oh, my God--no!" + +"What's she meetin' this millionaire in a wood for--on the sly?" + +"She don't! Hermy ain't like that." + +"I tell ye she does!" cried M'Ginnis, "an' him kissin' an' squeezin' her +an'--nobody by--" + +"It's a lie, Bud--she--she wouldn't!" + +"S'posin' I could show ye? S'pose you see him there--waitin' for her--" + +"If--if he means any harm t' Hermy, I--I'll kill him!" + +"Aw--you wouldn't have the nerve, Kid!" + +"I'd shoot him dead--by God, I would!" + +"You ain't man enough, Kid." + +"You g-give me a gun an' see. I'd shoot any one t' save my sister +from--th' river. Oh, my God--I--I'd die for her, an' she don't love me +no more!" And leaning his head upon his arms, Spike burst into a passion +of tears. M'Ginnis watched him awhile, then, filling the boy's glass, +clapped him on the shoulder and held it to his lips. + +"Neck this, Kid," said he, "neck it all--so, that's good, ain't it? +To-morrow evenin' I'll take ye where they meet; maybe you'll ketch him +waitin' for her--but instead of Hermy an' kisses there'll be you an' me, +hey? Will ye come?" + +"S-sure I will if--you'll gimme--your gun." + +"Pshaw, Kid--what's a kid like you want with a gun?" + +"T'shoot him--" + +"Eh? What? D'ye mean--?" + +"If he's after my sister, I'll--kill him! I will, by God, I will!" + +"'S right," nodded Soapy, staring into the boy's drawn face, "'s right, +Bud; if ever I see a killer--th' Kid's sure it!" + +Slowly the glare died out of Spike's eyes, his body drooped, and +sighing, he pillowed his heavy head upon the table and fell into a +drunken slumber. For a while the two men sat there hearkening to his +stertorous breathing, then Soapy laughed soft and mirthlessly. "You sure +got th' Kid all worked up an' mad enough t'--kill, eh, Bud? If he does +get up against this guy Geoff--this guy Geoff's sure goin' t' cash +in--sudden. Consequently, I guess you'll be wantin' paper an' +pencil--both here!" + +"What th' hell--" began M'Ginnis. + +"Telegram, Bud. You're goin' t' frame up a nice little telegram t' this +guy Geoff--oh, you sure are th' fly gazebo! A nice little message--'meet +me t'morrow in the wood at sunset--Hermy?' Somethin' nice 'n' romantic +like that'll bring him on th' run--eh, Bud? Then, 'stead of Hermy, comes +you an' th' Kid, eh, Bud? An' 'stead of kisses, this guy Geoff gets a +lead pill--eh, Bud? Th' Kid can't miss if you get him close enough. It +sure is some scheme, Bud; I couldn't have thought it out better myself. +Paper 'n' pencil, Bud--get busy an' I'll sashay over an' send it off for +ye--t'night." + +During Soapy's unusually long speech, M'Ginnis sat staring at him under +frowning brows, but now he turned and scowled down at the sheet of +paper, picked up the pencil, laid it by again and sat opening and +shutting his big hands, while Soapy, lighting another cigarette, watched +him furtively. When at last he spoke, his voice was thick, and he didn't +lift his scowling gaze. + +"Send that kid Larry t' me, an' say--you don't have t' come back." + +"All right, Bud, all right--only you'd best send two telegrams t' make +sure--one t' Fift' Av, an' one t' his place up th' river. S' long, +Buddy!" + +Some fifteen minutes later, the boy Larry, stepping out of O'Rourke's, +was swung to the wall in Soapy's grip. + +"Aw--say, cheese it now! Is that you, Soapy?" + +"'S right, my bucko. Fork out that telegram--quick!" + +"Aw, say, what yer mean--'n' say, Bud told me to hustle, 'n' say--" + +"Dig it out--quick!" said Soapy, the dangling cigarette glowing +fiercely. "I want it--see?" + +"But say--" whimpered Larry, "what'll Bud say--" + +"Nothin'! Bud ain't goin' t' know. You take this instead--take it!" And +Soapy thrust another folded paper into the boy's limp hand, who took it +whimpering. + +"Bud tol' me t' bring it back." + +"Well, you tell him you lost it." + +"Not much--I'll skin right back an' tell him you pinched it." + +"You won't, my sport, you won't!" said Soapy, and speaking, moved +suddenly; and the boy, uttering a gasp of terror, shrank cowering with +the muzzle of Soapy's deadly weapon against the pit of his stomach. "You +ain't goin' t' say a word t' Bud nor nobody else, are ye, Larry boy, are +ye?" + +"No--no--" + +"Because if ye ever did, old sport, I should give it ye there--right +there in the tum-tum, see? Now chase off, an' see ye get them addresses +right. S'long, Larry boy, be good now!" When the boy had scudded away, +Soapy opened the paper and scanned the words of M'Ginnis's telegram and, +being alone, smiled as he glanced through it. + +"You got th' Kid, Bud," he murmured, "you got th' Kid--but if th' Kid +gets the guy Geoff, why--I've sure got you, Bud--got ye sure as hell, +Bud!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +OF HARMONY AND DISCORD + + +Mr. Brimberly, comfortably ensconced in Young R.'s favourite armchair, +nodded ponderously and beat time to the twang of Mr. Jenkins's banjo, +whereto Mr. Stevens sang in a high-pitched and rather shaky tenor the +latest musical success yclept "Sammy." Thus, Mr. Jenkins strummed, Mr. +Stevens trilled, and Mr. Brimberly alternately beat the tempo with a +plump white finger and sipped his master's champagne until, having +emptied his glass, he turned to the bottle on the table beside him, +found that empty also, crossed to the two bottles on the mantel, found +them likewise void and had tried the two upon the piano with no better +success, when, the song being ended, Mr. Jenkins struck in with: + +"All dead men, Brim! Six of 'em between us--not bad going, what?" + +"And very good fizz too, on the whole!" added Mr. Stevens. "I always +sing better on champagne. But come, Brim my boy, I've obliged with +everything I know, and Jenk, 'e 's played everything 'e knows, and +I must say with great delicacy an' feelin'--now it's your +turn--somethin'." + +"Well," answered Mr. Brimberly, squinting at an empty bottle, "I used to +know a very good song once, called 'Let's drownd all our sorrers and +cares.' But good 'eavens! we can't drownd 'em in empty bottles, can we?" + +"Oh, very good!" chuckled Mr. Jenkins, "oh, very prime! If I might +suggest, there's nothin' like port--port's excellent tipple for +drowndin' sorrer and downing care--what?" + +"Port, sir?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "we 'ave enough port in our +cellars to drownd every sorrer an' care in Noo York City. I'm proud of +our port, sir, and I'm reckoned a bit of a connysoor--" + +"Ah, it takes a eddicated palate to appreciate good port!" nodded Mr. +Jenkins loftily, "a eddicated palate--what?" + +"Cert'nly!" added Mr. Stevens, "an' here's two palates waitin', waitin' +an' ready to appreciate till daylight doth appear." + +"There's nothin' like port!" sighed Mr. Brimberly, setting aside the +empty champagne bottle, "nothin' like port, and there's Young Har 'ardly +can tell it from sherry--oh, the Goth! the Vandyle! All this good stuff +would be layin' idle if it wasn't for me! Young Har ain't got no right +to be a millionaire; 'is money's wasted on 'im--he neglects 'is +opportoonities shameful--eh, shameful! What I say is--what's the use +of bein' a millionaire if you don't air your millions?" + +Hereupon Mr. Jenkins rocked himself to and fro over his banjo in a +polite ecstasy of mirth. + +"Oh, by Jove!" he gasped, "if that ain't infernal clever, I'll be shot! +Oh, doocid clever I call it--what!" + +"Er--by the way, Brim," said Mr. Stevens, his glance roving toward the +open window, "where does he happen to be to-night?" + +"Where?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, fingering a slightly agitated whisker, +"where is Young Har, sir? Lord, Mr. Stevens, if you ask me that, I +throws up my 'ands, and I answers you--'eavens knows! Young Har is a +unknown quantity, sir--a will o' the wisp, or as you might say, a ignus +fattus. At this pre-cise moment 'e may be in Jerusalem or Jericho +or--a-sittin' outside on the lawn--which Gawd forbid! But there, don't +let's talk of it. Come on down into the cellars, and we'll bring up +enough port to drownd sorrer an' care all night." + +"With all my heart!" said Mr. Jenkins, laying aside his banjo. + +"Ditto, indeed!" nodded Mr. Stevens, slipping a hand in his host's arm, +and thus linked together they made their way out of the room. + +Scarcely had their hilarious voices died away when a muscular brown hand +parted the hangings of an open window, and Geoffrey Ravenslee climbed +into the room. His rough clothes and shabby hat were powdered with dust, +and he looked very much out of place amid his luxurious surroundings as +he paused to glance swiftly from the bottles that decorated the carved +mantel to those on table and piano. Then, light-treading, he crossed the +room, and as the hilarious three were heard approaching, vanished in his +turn. + +"'Ere we are, Jubilee Port!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, setting down two +cobwebbed bottles with elaborate care, "obleege me with the corkscrew, +somebody." + +"Won't forget as you promised us a song, Brim!" said Mr. Jenkins, +passing the necessary implement. + +"Oh, I won't disappoint ye," answered Mr. Brimberly, drawing the cork +with a practised hand; "my father were a regular songster, a fair +carollin' bird 'e were, sir." + +"'Ow about 'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road'?" Mr. Stevens suggested. + +"Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, pausing in the act of filling the +glasses, "that's rather a--a low song, ain't it? What do you think, Mr. +Jenkins?" + +"Low?" answered Mr. Jenkins, "it's as low as--as mud, sir. I might say +it's infernal vulgar--what?" + +"Why, I don't care for it myself," Mr. Stevens admitted rather humbly, +"it was merely a suggestion." + +"With your good favour," said Mr. Brimberly, after a tentative sip at +his glass, "I'll sing you a old song as was a rare favourite of my +father's." + +"Why, then," said Mr. Jenkins, taking up his banjo, "oblige us with the +key." + +"The key, sir?" answered Mr. Brimberly, pulling down his waistcoat, +"what key might you mean?" + +"The key of the note dominant, Brim." + +Mr. Brimberly stared and felt for his whisker. + +"Note dominant," he murmured; "I don't think my song has anything of +that sort--" + +"Oh, well, just whistle a couple o' bars." + +"Bars," said Mr. Brimberly, shaking his head, "bars, sir, is things +wherewith I do not 'old; bars are the 'aunt of the 'umble 'erd, sir--" + +"No, no, Brim," explained Mr. Stevens, "Jenk merely means you to 'um the +air." + +"Ah, to be sure, now I appre'end! I'll 'um you the hair with pleasure." + +Mr. Brimberly cleared his throat vigorously and thereafter emitted +certain rumbling noises, whereat Mr. Jenkins cocked a knowing head. + +"C sharp, I think?" he announced. + +"Not much, Jenk!" said Mr. Stevens decidedly, "it was D flat--as flat a +D as ever I heard!" + +"It was C!" Mr. Jenkins said, "I appeal to Brim." + +"Well," said Mr. Brimberly ponderously, "I'm reether inclined to think I +made it a D--if it wasn't D it was F nat'ral. But if it's all the same +to you, I'll accompany myself at the piano-forty." + +"What," exclaimed Mr. Stevens, emptying and refilling his glass, seeing +which Mr. Jenkins did the same, "what--do you play, Brim?" + +"By hear, sir--only by hear," said Mr. Brimberly modestly, as, having +placed bottle and glass upon the piano within convenient reach, he +seated himself upon the stool, struck three or four stumbling chords and +then, vamping an accompaniment a trifle monotonous as to bass, burst +forth into song: + +"It was a rich merchant that in London did dwell, + He had but one daughter, a beautiful gell, + Which her name it was Dinah, scarce sixteen years old, + She'd a very large fortune in silver and gold." + +Chorus: + +"Ri tooral ri tooral ri tooral i-day, + Ri tooral ri tooral ri tooral i-day." + +It was now that Mr. Ravenslee, his rough clothes replaced by immaculate +attire, entered unostentatiously, and, wholly unobserved by the company, +seated himself and lounged there while Mr. Brimberly sang blithely on: + +"As Dinah was a-walking in her garden one day, + Her father came to her and thus he did say: + 'Come wed yourself, Dinah, to your nearest of kin, + Or you shan't have the benefit of one single pin!'" + + "Ri tooral ri too--" + +Here Mr. Jenkins, chancing to catch sight of that unobtrusive figure, +let fall his banjo with a clatter, whereupon Mr. Brimberly glancing +around, stopped short in the middle of a note, and sat open-mouthed, +staring at his master. + +"Enjoying a musical evening, Brimberly?" + +Mr. Brimberly blundered to his feet, choked, gasped, groped for his +whiskers, and finally spoke: + +"Why, sir, I--I'm afraid I--we are--" + +"I didn't know you were such an accomplished musician, Brimberly." + +"Mu-musician, sir?" Brimberly stammered, his eyes goggling; "'ardly +that, sir, oh, 'ardly that, I--I venture to--to tinkle a bit now an' +then, sir--no offence I 'ope, sir?" + +"Friends musical too, it seems." + +"Y-yes, sir, music do affect 'em, sir--uncommonly, sir." + +"Yes, makes them thirsty, doesn't it?" + +"Why, Mr. Ravenslee, sir, I--that is, we did so far venture to--er--I +mean--oh, Lord!" and mopping perspiring brow, Mr. Brimberly groaned and +goggled helplessly from Mr. Jenkins who stood fumbling with his banjo to +Mr. Stevens who gaped fishlike. + +"And now," said Young R., having viewed them each in turn, "if +these--er--very thirsty musicians have had enough of--er--my wine +to--er--drink, perhaps you'll be so obliging as to see them--off the +premises?" + +"I--I beg parding, sir?" + +"Please escort your friends off the premises." + +"Certingly, sir--at once, sir--" + +"Unless you think you ought to give them each a handful of my cigars--" + +But Mr. Brimberly had already bundled his dazed guests to the door, out +of the door, and out of the house, with very little ceremony. + +It was a very deferential and officiously eager Brimberly who presently +knocked and, bowing very frequently, begged to know how he might be of +further service. + +"Might I get you a little supper, sir? We 'ave 'am, sir, we 'ave beef, +cold, salmon and cucumber likewise cold, a ditto chicken--" + +"That sounds rather a quaint bird," said Ravenslee. + +"Yes, sir, very good, sir, chicken an' a nice slice of 'am, sir, say, +and--" + +"Thank you, Brimberly, I dined late." + +"Why then, sir, a sandwich or so, pray permit me, sir, cut nice an' +thin, sir--" + +"Thank you--no." + +"Dear, dear! Why then, sir, whisky? Brandy? A lick-your?" + +"Nothing." + +"A cigar, sir?" + +"Hum! Have we any of the Garcias left?" + +"Y-yes, sir. Ho, certingly, sir. Shall I--" + +"Don't bother, I prefer my pipe; only let me know when we get short, +Brimberly, and we'll order more--or perhaps you have a favourite brand?" + +"Brand, sir," murmured Brimberly, "a--er--certingly, sir." + +"Good night, Brimberly." + +"Good night, sir, but first can't I do--hanything?" + +"Oh, yes, you do me, of course. You do me so consistently and well that +I really ought to raise your wages. I'll think about it." + +Mr. Brimberly stared, coughed, and fumbled for his whisker, whence his +hand wandered to his brow and hovered there. + +"I--I bid you good night, sir!" + +"Oh, by the way, bring me the letters." + +"Certingly, sir!" and crossing the room, Mr. Brimberly returned, bearing +a salver piled high with letters, which he set at his master's elbow; +this done, he bowed and went from the room, one hand still at his dazed +brow. + +Left alone, Ravenslee took up the letters one by one. Some he threw +aside, some few he opened and glanced at carelessly; among these last +was a telegram, and the words he saw were these: + +"Meet me to-morrow sunset in the wood all shall be explained Hermy." + +For a while he sat staring at this, then, laying it by, drew out a +letter case from which he took another telegram bearing precisely the +same message. Having compared them, he thrust them into his pocket, and +filling his pipe, sat awhile smoking and lost in thought. At last, his +pipe being out, he rose, stretched, and turned toward the door, but in +the act of leaving the room, paused to take out and compare the +telegrams again and so stood with puckered brow. + +"'Hermy!'" he said softly. "'Hermione' is so much prettier. 'All shall +be explained.' A little trite, perhaps! Oh, well--" So saying, he folded +up the telegrams, switched off the lights and went to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +OF TRAGEDY + + +It was close on the hour of sunset when Ravenslee stopped his car before +a quiet hotel in Englewood and sprang out. + +"Will you be long, sir?" enquired Joe, seating himself at the wheel and +preparing to turn into the garage. + +"Probably an hour, Joe." + +"Very good, sir." + +But as the big car turned, Ravenslee spoke over his shoulder. + +"By the way, if I shouldn't be back in an hour, come and meet me." Then, +having given Joe full and particular directions as to the little wood, +he turned and went upon his way. + +It had been a stifling day, and even now, though a soft air was abroad +tempering the humid heat, when this light wind languished there was over +all things a brooding stillness, foreboding storm. But Ravenslee strode +on, unheeding dust and heat, hastening on to that which awaited him, +full of strength and life and the zest of life, glad-hearted, and with +pulses that throbbed in expectation. Thus, as the sun sank in fiery +splendour, he reached the little wood. Evening was falling, and already, +among the trees, shadows were deepening to twilight, but in the west was +a flaming glory; and, upon the edge of the wood he turned to glance back +at this radiance, splashes of gold and pink flushing to an ominous red. +For a long moment he stood to stare around about the solitary +countryside, joying in life and the glory of it. Then he turned, with a +smile on his lips, and stepped into the gloom of the wood. On he went, +forcing his way through the under-brush until, reaching the clearing, he +halted suddenly and faced about, fancying he had heard a rustle in the +leaves hard by. Spike, cowering behind a bush with M'Ginnis's fingers +gripping his arm, shivered and sweated and held his breath until +Ravenslee moved on again, and, coming to a fallen tree, seated himself +there and sat chin on fist, expectation in every tense line of him. + +"Now!" whispered M'Ginnis hoarsely, "get him now--before Hermy comes t' +him!" Shuddering, Spike levelled the weapon he held, but at that moment +Ravenslee was filling his pipe, and something in this homely action +checked the lad, paralysed finger on trigger, and shrinking, he cowered +down upon the grass despite the fierce hand that gripped him. "Get him +now, Kid--get him now! Aim f'r his chest--y' can't miss at this +distance--" + +"I--I can't, Bud!" gasped the boy, writhing, "I can't do it--I can't!" +Dropping the revolver, he hid his face in sweating hands and shivered. + +From somewhere near by a woodpecker was tapping busily, but save for +this no sound broke the pervading stillness, for the gentle wind had +died away. But suddenly the quiet was rent and shivered, and Spike, +deafened by the report, glanced up to see Ravenslee rise to his feet, +stagger forward blindly, then, with arms outflung, pitch forward upon +his face and lie there. + +"By God, you--you've shot him, Bud!" he whimpered, "you--you've killed +dear old Geoff--oh, my God!" + +"Aw, quit--quit all that!" whispered M'Ginnis breathlessly, "that's what +we came for, ain't it? What you lookin' at?" + +"It lays so--still! so awful still!" Spike gasped. + +"Well, what ye got t' go starin' at it that ways for? Come on--let's +beat it; it's us for th' quick get-away in case any one heard. Come on, +Kid!" + +"But you've--killed Geoff!" + +"I guess he don't need no more--'n' say, Kid, you're in on this job +too, don't forget! Come on, it's little old N' York for ours!" + +Though M'Ginnis dragged at him, Spike huddled limply on his knees, his +glaring eyes always staring in the one direction; whereupon M'Ginnis +cursed and left him. + +But all at once, finding himself alone, to horror came fear, and +stumbling to his feet Spike began to draw away from that awful thing +that held his gaze; slowly he retreated, always going backwards, and +though he stumbled often against tree and sapling, yet so long as it was +in sight needs must he walk backwards. When at last a kindly bush hid it +from his sight, he turned and ran--ran until, panting and wild-eyed, he +burst from the wood and was out upon the open road. Even then he paused +to stare back into that leafy gloom but saw and heard nothing. Then, +uttering a moan, he turned and ran sobbing along the darkening road. + +But, within that place of shadows, from amid the leaves of a certain +great tree, dropped one who came beside that motionless form, and knelt +there awhile. When at last he rose, a ring lay upon his open palm--a +ring in the shape of two hands clasping each other; then, with this +clenched in a pallid fist, he also turned and left that still and awful +thing with its face hidden in last year's dead and rotting leaves. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +OF REMORSE + + +For three miserable days Spike had remained indoors, eating little, +sleeping less, venturing abroad only at dusk to hurry back with the +latest paper and, locked within his bedroom, to scan every scare head +and column with eyes dilating in dreadful expectation of beholding the +awful word--MURDER. + +For three interminable days Hermione, going about her many duties slow +of foot and listless, had scarcely heeded him, conscious only of her own +pain, the agony of longing, the yearning ache that filled her, throbbing +in every heart-beat--an ache that would not be satisfied. Thus, lost in +her own new sorrow, she spoke seldom, sighed often, and sang not at all; +often sitting at her sewing machine with hands strangely idle and gaze +abstracted. Spike, watching furtively, had seen her eyes brim over with +great, slow-falling tears; more than once he had heard her bitter +weeping in the dawn. At such times he had yearned to comfort her, but +between them was memory, dividing them like a wall--the memory of a +still form with arms wide-tossed and face hidden among dead leaves. And +at such times Spike writhed in the grip of horror and groaned under the +gnawing fangs of remorse; sometimes he prayed wild, passionate prayers, +and sometimes he wetted his pillow with unavailing tears, while in his +ears, like a small voice, soft and insistent, repeated over and over +again, was the dread word MURDER. By day it haunted him also; it stared +up at him from the white cloth of the breakfast table, forbidding him +to eat; he read it on floor and walls and ceiling; he saw it in bloody +characters that straggled across the very sky; wherever he turned his +haggard gaze there he needs must read it. + +And then--there were the footsteps. All day long they tramped up and +down the stairs outside--everyday sounds that he had never heeded +before, but now they were warnings to hearken to and shudder at, and he +would sit pretending to read but with ears straining for the sound of +feet upon the landing or on the stair. Now they were feet that +crept--the stealthy steps of one that lurked to catch him unaware; or +again, they were the loud tramp of those who came with authority to drag +him to doom, and he would watch the door, staring wide-eyed, waiting for +the thundering knock he expected yet which never came. All day long they +haunted him, and at night, locked within his bedroom, he must needs lift +heavy head from the pillow to hearken with ears straining even yet, +until, haggard and worn, he had shivered and groaned and wept himself to +sleep, only to awake and start up in sweating terror, thinking he heard +a fierce hand knocking, knocking upon the outer door. + +Thus, for three long days Spike had lived in torment, and to-night, as +he leaned throbbing head between clutching hands, his haggard eyes +sought vainly for that fell word which he could read everywhere except +in the newspaper before him; his sufferings had grown almost beyond his +strength, for to his old torments was added harrowing suspense. + +"Why?" "Why?" "Why" was the word that stared at him from ceiling and +walls and blue expanse of heaven; why was it there and not in the +papers? Could it be that it was lying there yet, that awful, still +thing, lying as he remembered it, as he could see it now, its ghastly +features hidden among the leaves that rotted, its long arms outflung and +strong hands griped among the grass with clutching fingers--could it +be?-- + +"Arthur--boy--what's the matter?" + +Spike started and looked up to find Hermione beside him, and +instinctively he shrank away. + +"Arthur--oh, what is it? Are you sick?" + +"N-no, why?" + +"You were moaning." + +"Oh, well, I--I'm all right, I guess. Got a headache, that's all." + +"Why have you avoided me lately, Arthur? I'm not angry any more, I'm +only--disappointed." + +"Y' mean because I lost me job? They don't want my kind; I--oh, I'm too +mean--too rotten, I guess." + +"I heard you cry out in the night, Arthur. What was it?" + +"Nothin'--I didn't cry out las' night, I tell ye." + +"I heard you!" + +"Oh, well, I--I was only dreamin', I guess." + +"Why have you acted so strangely lately? You don't eat, you don't go +out; you sit around staring and seem to be listening--almost as if you +were afraid--" + +"I ain't--I ain't afraid. Who says I'm afraid? An' I don't want you to +go worryin' y'self sick over me--I ain't a kid no more." + +"No, I'm afraid you're not." And sighing, she turned away. But as she +crossed the room, her step slow and listless, he spoke, his head +down-bent and face hidden between clenched hands, voicing, almost +despite himself, the questions that had tortured him so long. + +"Say, Hermy, where's--Geoff? How is he--I mean you--you ain't--heard +anything--have you?" + +"No," she answered softly, without turning, "what should I hear? I only +know he's--gone. How should I hope to hear anything any more?" + +"I--I thought he was--goin' t' marry you." + +"So he was, but I--couldn't let him--marry--a thief's sister," she said +in the same low, even voice. + +"Ah!" cried Spike, writhing, "why did he go an' tell ye about me after +he told me he never would--why did he tell ye?" + +"He didn't tell me!" cried Hermione, with curling lip. + +"Didn't he--oh--didn't he?" said Spike, his voice high and quivering, +"didn't Geoff tell ye? Then--say, Hermy, who--who did?" + +"It was Bud M'Ginnis, and for once it seems he told the truth!" + +"Bud!" cried Spike, stumbling to his feet. "Oh, my God!" At sound of +his voice she turned, and seeing his face, cried out in sudden fear: +"Arthur--oh, Arthur, what is it?" + +"Bud told ye?" he gasped. "Wasn't it Geoff--oh, wasn't it Geoff?" + +"No!" + +Spike was down on his knees. "Oh, God! Oh, Geoff--dear old Geoff, +forgive me!" He was huddled upon the floor, his face pressed to the +worn rug, his clenched fingers buried in his curls, while from his +lips issued gasping sobs harshly dry and awful to hear. + +"Forgive me, Geoff, forgive me! I thought you told her! I thought you +meant t' steal her from me! Oh, forgive me, Geoff--I wish I was dead +like you." + +"Arthur!" + +She was down beside him on her knees, shaking him with desperate hands. + +"Arthur! Arthur! What--are you saying?" + +"Nothin'--nothin'!" he stammered, staring up into her face, suddenly +afraid of her. "Nothin', I--I was only--thinkin'--I--" + +"What did you mean?" she cried, her grasp tightening. "Tell me what you +meant--tell me, tell me!" + +"Nothin'," he mumbled, trying to break her hold. "Lemme go, I--I didn't +mean anything--" + +"Tell me what you meant--tell me, tell me!" + +"No--I can't--I--" + +His voice failed suddenly, his whole frame grew tense and rigid, and +lifting a stiff arm he pointed a trembling finger toward the open +doorway. + +"Hush--hush!" he panted, "oh, for God's sake, hush! There--don't you +hear--there's some one outside on th' landing--footsteps--hark! They're +coming to our door! They're stoppin' outside--oh, my God, it's come +at--" + +The word ended in a scream, drowned all at once in a thunderous knocking +on the outer door, and Spike, crouching upon his knees, clutched at her +as she rose. + +"Don't,--don't open--the door!" he gasped, while Hermione gazed at him, +terrified by his terror, as again the thunderous summons was heard. +Then, despite the boy's passionate prayers and desperate, clutching +hands, she broke from him, and hastening into the little passage, opened +the door. + +Upon the threshold stood a little old man, very smartly dressed, who +saluted her with a gallant flourish of his dapper straw hat and bowed +with his two small and glittering patent leather shoes posed at position +number one in waltzing. + +"Ma'am," said he, "miss, respectful greetin's. Your name's Hermione, +ain't it?" + +"Yes," she answered, wondering. + +"Knowed it was. And a partic'ler fine gal too! Though not 'oldin' wi' +marridge, I don't blame the Guv--'e always 'ad a quick eye for +beauty--like me." + +"But who are you? What do you want--" + +"Miss, I want you--leastways--'e does. Been callin' for you the last +three days 'e has, ever since 'e ketched one as fair doubled 'im up--" + +"I--I don't understand. Who are you?" + +"A admirer of the Guv, ma'am. A trusted friend of 'is, miss--come t' +take ye to 'is poor, yearnin' arms, lady--" + +"But who--oh, what do you mean?" + +"Mr. Ravenslee, ma'am." + +"Mr. Ravenslee!" she echoed, her colour changing. + +"Yes. Y' see--he's dyin', miss!" + +Hermione gasped and leaned against the wall as if suddenly faint and +sick, perceiving which, the Old Un promptly set his arm about her waist +and led her unresisting into the parlour. There, having aided her +tenderly into a chair and nodded to pale-faced Spike, he sighed, shook +his ancient head, and continued: + +"Ho, Lor lumme, lady, it fair wrung my old 'eart to 'ave to tell ye, +but, 'aving to tell ye (Joe couldn't) I told ye almighty quick to get it +over--sharp an' quick's my motter. Fate's crool 'ard when Fate takes the +gloves off, miss, an' I know as Fate's been an' took ye one in the wind +wot's fair doubled you up--but take time, miss, take time--throw back +your pretty 'ead, breathe deep an' reg'lar, an' you'll soon be strong +enough to go another round. If I'd got a towel handy I'd fan ye a +bit--not 'avin' none, no matter. Fate's 'ard on you, so fair an' young, +miss, but Fate's been 'arder on the Guv--ketched the pore young Guv a +fair spiflicator--" + +"Oh, please--please," cried Hermione, reaching out appealing hands, "oh, +tell me, is he hurt--sick--dying? Oh, quick, quick--tell me!" + +"Lady, ma'am--my pretty dear," said the Old Un, taking those pleading +hands to pat them tenderly, "that's what I'm tryin' to do. The Guv +ain't dead yet--no, not--yet--" + +"You mean he's dying?" + +"My dear," said the old man, blinking at her through sudden tears, +"that's what the doctors say." Here he loosed one hand to rub at each +bright eye with a bony knuckle. "An' 'im so young--so game an' +strong--three days ago." + +"How--did it--happen?" she questioned, her voice low and steady. + +"It was Fate!" said the old man, taking her hand again. "Three days ago +Fate (the perisher) sends him a telegram--two on 'em--tellin' 'im to +meet you in a wood an' signed with--with your name, both on 'em--" + +At this she cried out and would have risen, but his kindly clasp checked +her. + +"I--sent no telegram!" she whispered. + +"Me an' Joe an' the Spider know that now, miss. But anyway, to this 'ere +wood the Guv do 'aste away, an' in this wood Fate's a-layin' for 'im +wir a gun, an' down goes the pore Guv wi' a perishin' bullet in 'is +gizzard. An' there Joe finds 'im, an' 'ome Joe brings 'im in the car, +an' Joe an' me an' the Spider 'ushes things up. An' now in bed lays the +Guv with nurses an' doctors 'anging over 'im--a-callin' for you--I mean +the Guv, d' ye see? So now for you I've come. I've brought Joe an' the +car for you--Joe's across wi' Mrs. Trapes, an' the car's below--both +waitin'. So you'll come t' th' pore young Guv, miss, won't ye, lady?" + +"Have you--any idea--who--did it?" she questioned, speaking as with an +effort. + +"We got our suspicions, ho, yus!" the Old Un nodded. "Joe's got a +wonnerful gift o' suspicion--oh, a rare 'ead 'as my lad Joe. Joe an' +the Spider's on the track, an' they're goin' to track Fate to doom, +ma'am--to perishin' doom! Y' see," here the old man leaned suddenly +nearer, "y' see, Joe's found a cloo!" + +"A clew! Yes--yes!" she whispered breathlessly, moistening lips suddenly +dry, and conscious that Spike's lax form had stiffened to painful +alertness. + +"Well, ma'am, Joe an' the Spider's been a-seekin' an' a-searchin' of +that there wood, an' they found," here the Old Un leaned nearer yet and +whispered harshly, "they found--a coat button! Lorgorramighty!" he +exclaimed suddenly, pointing a trembling bony finger, "what's took th' +lad--look!" + +Spike had risen and now stood, breathing loudly, one hand clenched upon +his breast, and turning swiftly, took a stumbling pace toward the open +window, tripped, and fell prone upon his face. + +"Oh, poor lad, poor lad!" cried the Old Un, rising hastily. "Fate's +been an' ketched him one too--a fair knock-out! Leave him to me, miss, +I'll bring 'im round--bitin' 'is years is good, or vinegar on a +sponge--leave 'im to a old fightin' man--" + +"No!" cried Hermione passionately, "no, I say. Leave him to me!" Quelled +by something in her tone and manner, the old man sank back in his chair, +while she, kneeling beside Spike, lifted him in her strong young arms so +that he was hidden from the Old Un's bright, piercing eyes. Holding him +thus, she loosed Spike's rigid fingers and drew away that clutching +hand; then, seeing what that hand had striven to hide, she shrank +suddenly away, letting the boy's inanimate form slip from her clasp; +and, as she knelt there above him, her shapely body was seized with +fierce tremors. + +So she knelt for a long moment until Spike sighed, shivered, and sat up, +but beholding the look in her wide eyes, uttered a hoarse sound that was +like a cry of fear and, starting from her nearness, crouched down, +huddled upon his knees. + +Then Hermione rose and, turning to the old man, smiled with pallid lips. + +"You see--he's all right--now!" she said. "If you'll please go and tell +Mrs. Trapes I'm leaving, I'll get ready." Obediently the Old Un rose. + +"Mrs. Trapes is a-gettin' into her bonnet to come along wi' us!" said +he, and putting on his hat with a flourish, took his departure. When he +was gone, Hermione turned and looked down at Spike, who, meeting her +eyes, flinched as from a blow and made no effort to rise from his knees. +So she packed her grip and dressed for the journey, while he watched her +with eyes of mute appeal. Twice he would have spoken, but her look smote +him to silence. At last, as she took up her suit case and turned to go, +he implored her in a hoarse whisper, reaching out his arms to her: +"Hermy!" + +But she shrank from his contact and, hastening from the room and along +the little passage, closed the door and left him to his hopeless misery. +As one in a dream she followed the old man down the stairs, was aware of +his ushering her through the crowd of women and children who thronged +about the big car. As one in a dream she found herself seated beside +Mrs. Trapes, whose motherly solicitude she heeded no more than the +bustle and traffic of the streets through which the swift car whirled +her on and on until, turning, it swung in between massive gates and +pulled up before a great, gloomy house. + +As one in a dream she ascended the broad steps, crossed a stately hall, +was ushered up a noble stairway and along thick-carpeted corridors until +at last she found herself in a darkened chamber where, his dark head +conspicuous upon the white pillow, he lay. A nurse rose from beside the +bed as Hermione entered and softly withdrew. Left alone, she stood for +a long moment utterly still, her hands tightly clasped, her breath in +check, gazing at that dark head upon the pillow, at that outstretched +form lying so silent and so very still. + +"Hermione!" + +A feeble whisper, a sigh faintly breathed, but at the sound she had +crossed the wide chamber on feet swift and noiseless, had sunk upon her +knees beside the low bed to lean above him all murmurous love and +sighing tenderness, while she stole a timid hand to touch the hair that +curled upon his pallid brow; then, for all his helplessness, she flushed +beneath his look. + +"How beautiful--you are!" he said faintly, "and I--weak as--confounded +rat! Hermione--love, they tell me I--must die. But first I want you +for--my very own if only for--a little while!" + +"Oh, my dear," she whispered, soft mouth against his pale cheek, "I +always was yours--yours from the very first; I always shall be." + +"Then you'll--marry me?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"I--hoped you would, so--I arranged--minister's waiting now. Will +you--ring?" And he motioned feebly toward an electric bell-push that +stood upon a small table beside the bed. + +And now once again as one in a dream she obeyed, and was presently aware +of soft-treading figures about her in the dim chamber--among them the +Old Un whose shoes for once creaked not at all. As one in a dream she +made the responses, felt the feeble clasp of that hand whose strength +and masterful power had thrilled her, heard the faint echo of that loved +voice that had wooed her so passionately once, yet wooed in vain, while +now-- + +She was alone again, alone with him who lay so very still and pale with +eyes closed wearily; from him she glanced to that which gleamed so +bright and new upon her finger and bending her head she pressed the +wedding ring to her lips. + +"Wife!" he whispered; the weary eyes were open, and his look drew her. +So she knelt beside the bed again, stooping above him low and lower +until her head lay beside his upon the pillow. Slowly, slowly his feeble +hand crept up to her glowing cheek, to the soft waves of her hair, and +to the little curl that wantoned above her eyebrow. + +"Hermione--wife--kiss me!" + +Tenderly her arms enfolded him, and with a soft little cry that was half +a sob she kissed him, his brow, his hair, his lips, kissed him even +while she wetted him with her falling tears. + +"Beloved," he murmured, "my glorious--scrubwoman--if I must--leave +you--these dear hands need never--never slave again. Never--any--more, +my Hermione." + +Long after he had fallen to sleep she knelt there, cradling his weakness +in her arms, looking down on him with eyes bright with love. + +After this were days and nights when the soul of him wandered in dark +places filled with chaotic dreams and wild fancies; but there was ever +one beside him whose gentle voice reached him in the darkness, and whose +tender hand hushed his delirium and soothed his woes and troubles. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE CAME OUT OF THE DARK + + +She was knitting; and opening sleepy eyes he watched drowsily and +wondered what it might be and was minded to enquire, but sighed instead +and fell asleep again. + +She was knitting; knitting something in red wool, and opening his eyes +again, he lay watching awhile and pondered dreamily as to what it could +be she wrought at so busily, for the wool was so very red and so +extremely woolly. + +Her chin was set at an angle somewhat grim, she was sitting very +upright in her chair and, though scrupulously hidden from sight, her +elbows--truly how portentous were the undisguisable points of those +elbows! And she was knitting fiercely in wool that was remarkably red +and woolly. + +"Pray what is it, Mrs. Trapes?" A feeble whisper, but, at the sound, +faint though it was, Mrs. Trapes started, half rose from her chair, sank +down again heavily and letting fall her knitting, stared at the invalid. + +"Land sakes, alive!" she gasped. + +"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee, his voice a little stronger. + +"Oh, dear beloved land o' my fathers--it's come!" she exclaimed, +clasping her hands, "the Lord be praised for evermore, it's come!" + +"What has?" + +"The turn! And you've took it! Doctor Dennison says last night as you'd +take it soon one way or t' other. But all night long while they waited +and watched here, you've laid so pale an' still as a corp'. An' now, +while I'm a-settin' here, you go an' take th' turn so sudden as fair +takes my breath away, Lord be praised! I mean--I mean--oh, I guess I'll +go wake the doctor." + +"But you haven't told me what it is," said Ravenslee drowsily. + +"What what is?" + +"That very peculiar--woolly thing." + +"This?" said Mrs. Trapes, picking up the object in question, "this is my +knittin'. Doctor said t' call him th' moment th' turn came--" Her voice +seemed to sink to a slumberous murmur as, having smoothed his pillow, +she crossed the room and very softly closed the door behind her; +wherefore Ravenslee blinked sleepily at the door until its panels seemed +slowly to become confused and merge one into another, changing gradually +to a cloud, soft, billowy, and ever growing until it had engulfed him +altogether, and he sank down and down into unknown deeps of +forgetfulness and blessed quietude. + + * * * * * + +She was knitting; knitting a shapeless something in red wool, and +Ravenslee thought he had never known her elbows more threatening of +aspect nor seen wool quite so red and woolly; wherefore he presently +spoke, and his voice was no longer a feeble croak. + +"Pray what is it, Mrs. Trapes?" + +Mrs. Trapes jumped. + +"Well, for th' love o' heaven!" she exclaimed, and down fell her +knitting. + +"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee a little petulantly. + +"Your very--identical--words!" said Mrs. Trapes in awed tones. "Nacher +sure 'moves in a mysterious way her wonders to perform'!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean as them was the identical words as you addressed to me when you +took th' turn two days ago!" + +"Two days!" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring. + +"Ever since you did take the turn two days ago, you've laid there so +quiet an' peaceful--no more dreams an' ravin'--you've jest laid there +'wrapped in infant slumbers pure an' light', Mr. Geoffrey--Ravenslee, +I mean." + +"Why then, it's about time I got up. If you'll kindly--er--retire and +send Patterson, I'll get dressed." + +"Dressed?" echoed Mrs. Trapes, hollow-voiced and grim. "Get up? Lord, +Mr. Geoffrey!" + +"Certainly. Why not?" + +"What, you--you as is only jest out o' the valley o' th' shadder! You +as we've all give up for dead over an' over! You get up? Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey--I mean Ravenslee!" + +"Oh," said Ravenslee, knitting his dark brows thoughtfully, "have I been +sick long?" + +"Four weeks." + +"Weeks!" he exclaimed, staring incredulously. + +"Four weeks an' a bit! For four weary, woeful weeks you've been layin' +here with death hoverin' over you, Mr. Geoffrey. For four long weeks +we've been waitin' for ye t' draw your las' breath, Mr. Ravenslee. For +four 'eart-rendin' weeks your servants has been carryin' on below stairs +an' robbin' you somethin' shameful." + +"My servants? Oh, yes, they generally do. But tell me--" + +"The amount o' food as they consoom constant! The waste! The +extravagance! Th' beer an' wine an' sperrits they swaller! Them is sure +the thirstiest menials ever I heard tell of! An' the butler--such airs, +such a appetite! An' sherry an' bitters t' make it worse! Lord, Mr. +Geoffrey, your servants sure is a ravenin' horde!" + +"Don't be too hard on 'em, Mrs. Trapes," he answered gravely, "I'm +afraid I've neglected them quite a good deal. But it's a woman's hand +they need over them." + +"It's a pleeceman's club they need on 'em--frequent! I'd learn 'em +different, I guess--" + +"So you shall, Mrs. Trapes, if you will. You are precisely the kind of +housekeeper I need." + +"What--me?" + +"You, Mrs. Trapes. A lonely bachelor needs some one to--er take care of +his servants for him, to see they don't overeat themselves too often; +or--er--strain themselves spring-cleaning out of season--or--" + +"But you got a wife t' do all that for you. I guess Hermy'll know how to +manage." + +"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, starting, "wife? Am I really--married?" + +"Sure! Didn't she go an' let you wed her when we all thought you was +dyin'?" + +"Oh, did she?" said he very gently. "Why then, it--it wasn't all a +dream?" + +"Mr. Geoffrey, Hermy's been Mrs. Ravenslee, your lawful wedded wife, +just exactly four weeks." + +Ravenslee stared up at the ceiling, dreamy-eyed. + +"Good heavens!" he murmured. "I thought I'd only dreamed it." + +"Hermy's watched over you night an' day a'most--like th' guardian angel +she is--prayin' f' you, workin' f' you, fightin' death away from you. +Oh, I guess it's her fault as you're alive this day! Anyway, her an' +you's man an' wife till death do you part." + +"But death--hasn't, you see." + +"An' death sure ain't goin' to--yet." + +"No, I'm--I'm very much alive still, it seems." + +"You sure are, glory be t' th' Lord of Hosts to who I have also +petitioned frequent on your behoof. An' now I'll call th' doctor." + +"No, no--not Dennison; let me see her first. Can't I speak to Hermione +first, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"She was up with you all las' night, sweet lamb! It'd be a shame to wake +her--" + +"So it would--don't disturb her." + +"But I guess she'd never forgive me if I didn't wake her. So if you'll +promise t' be good--" + +"I will!" + +"An' not go gettin' all worked up an' excited?" + +"I will not!" + +"Why then, perhaps ten minutes wouldn't hurt." + +"God bless you, Mrs. Trapes!" + +Left alone, he tried to sit up, and finding this strangely difficult, +examined his hands and arms, scowling to find himself so weak. Then he +clapped hand to bony jaw and was shocked to feel thereon a growth of +ragged beard, and then--she was before him. Fresh from her slumbers she +came, wrapped in a scanty kimono whose thin, clinging folds revealed +more of her shapely beauty than he had ever seen as she hurried across +the wide chamber. + +"Hermione," he said, and reached out his hands to her. And his voice +was no longer the feeble echo it had been; the hand that clasped hers, +though still thin and weak, thrilled her anew with its masterful touch. +Because of all this, her words of tender greeting remained unspoken, the +arms which had been eager to cradle his helplessness crossed themselves +on her bosom; she became aware of naked ankles and of bare feet thrust +into bedroom slippers and needs must hide them, and the better to do so, +sank upon the bed, her feet tucked under her. So she sat, just beyond +his reach, and, conscious of scanty draperies, shook her shining hair +about her, veiling herself in its glory. + +"Hermione," he said unsteadily, "I--I never knew quite how beautiful you +were--and we--we are married, it seems!" + +"Yes," she said softly. + +"And now I'm--I'm afraid I'm going to--live!" + +"Afraid?" + +"It--it almost seems as though I had married you under false pretences, +doesn't it? But the doctors and everybody were so certain I was to die +that I thought so too. And now--I'm going to live, it seems." + +She was silent, and slowly his hand went out to her again, and slowly +hers went to meet it, but though her fingers clasped and twined, +thrilling in mute passion to his touch, she came no nearer, but watched +him from the shadow of her hair with great troubled eyes. + +"Dear," he said, very humbly, "you do--love me still, don't you?" + +"More than ever." + +"Then you're not--sorry to be my wife?" + +"No--ah, no, no!" she whispered, "never that!" + +"Then, dear, won't you--will you kiss me?" Seeing she hesitated, he +sank back on his pillow and laughed a little ruefully. "I forgot these +confounded whiskers--I must look an unholy object. Patterson shall shave +me, and then perhaps--" + +But sudden and warm and soft her arms were about him, and her eyes, +troubled no longer, gazed into his, brimful of yearning tenderness. + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," she murmured, quick and passionate, "as if I +should ever care how you looked as long as you were--just you. My dear, +my dear, you have come back to me from the very gates of death because +I--I--" + +"Because you nursed me so tenderly!" + +"Ah, no, there were others to do that--no, God gave you back to me +because He is merciful, and because I love you--want you--need you so +much!" + +"Oh, my Hermione--Kiss me!" + +A knock at the door, and, quick-breathing, she drew from him as the +voice of Mrs. Trapes reached them. + +"Ten minutes is up!" she announced as she entered, "and Hermy, if you +don't want th' doctor t' see you in your nightdress an' that--" + +"Ann!" gasped Hermione, drawing the folds of her kimono about her. + +"Anyway, he's coming." + +Up sprang Hermione, in doing which she lost a slipper. + +"Give it me!" she pleaded, for Ravenslee had caught it up. + +"Dear, you have one--be content," he answered. "And surely I may kiss +my wife's slipper without you having to blush so--so deliciously, +Hermione?" + +"It's so--old and shabby!" said she faintly. + +"That's why I kiss it." + +"An' here comes th' doctor!" said Mrs. Trapes. Whereat Hermione +incontinent fled away, white foot agleam. Then Ravenslee, having kissed +the little slipper quite brazenly under Mrs. Trapes's staring eyes, +tucked it beneath his pillow. + +"Why, Mr. Geoffrey!" said Mrs. Trapes. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +CONCERNING A CLEW + + +"Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee, laying aside the book he had been reading +and letting his glance wander across smooth lawns and clipped yew +hedges, "Mrs. Trapes, what about that stewed shin of beef with carrots +and onions you prepared for--our wedding supper?" + +"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her everlasting knitting, +"which you never stopped to eat." + +"Which omission I will now haste to rectify. Mrs. Trapes, pray go and +get it ready--I'm ravenous!" + +"Good f'r you!" said Mrs. Trapes; "in about half an hour you shall have +a nice cup of beef tea to raven at--" + +"Confounded slops!" growled Ravenslee. + +"Doctor's orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, clicking her knitting needles. + +"Can't I have something to chew at?" + +"Sure. How'll a cracker soaked in milk soot?" + +"Cracker!" snarled Ravenslee. + +"Doctor's orders!" + +Ravenslee muttered and took up his book. + +"Helen who, did you say?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, glancing up. "Mr. +Geoffrey--I mean Ravenslee, I'm surprised at you--swearin' ain't good +for a invalid; your temperature'll be rose if you swear." + +"But, my dear Mrs. Trapes, I'm hungry, very hungry--darned hungry!" + +"Which is a sign as you're improvin' rapid. Beef tea'll be here soon." + +"I won't drink the stuff!" + +"Oh, but you will, when Hermy brings it." + +"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, his voice grown gentle, and laying down his +book again. "Mrs. Trapes, have you noticed any change in her lately?" + +"A bit handsomer, p'r'aps--" + +"Yes, but I don't mean that; it's something that puzzles me. She seems +to have grown more--more reserved and shy--" + +"Well, she was married to you before she knew it kind of, almost." + +"Do you suppose that's it?" + +"Sure! What you got t' do, Mr. Geoffrey, is--woo her! Woo her all you +know how. The best woman can't be wooed too hard nor too frequent--so +you start in an' woo." + +"But sometimes it has almost seemed that she--avoided me." + +"Well, don't let her." + +"Do you suppose she's grieving for Spike?" + +"Well, he ain't exactly a j'y t' her. There he is going straight to the +devil along o' that Bud M'Ginnis!" + +"I must go and fetch him as soon as I can get about again." + +"If he'll come." + +"Oh, he'll come," said Ravenslee grimly. "I've decided to send him to +college--" + +"If he'll go!" + +"Oh, he'll go--there's quite a lot of good in him, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Only it's mighty hard to find, Mr. Geoffrey! If that b'y wants t' go +t' th' devil, to th' devil he'll go. What you got t' do is t' make her +forget him--if you can. Oh, drat him, anyway!" and squaring her elbows, +Mrs. Trapes knitted so angrily that her knitting needles clashed like +weapons fiercely opposed. + +"Yes, but suppose she is grieving for him, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Why then," said Mrs. Trapes, "why then--oh, shucks--I guess I'll go an' +see after that beef tea." + +When she had gone, Ravenslee sat plunged in gloomy thought until roused +by the sound of approaching feet with a creak of shoes, a loud, arrogant +creak there was no mistaking, and the Old Un appeared followed by Joe +and the Spider, the latter looking very smart in his new livery. + +"Guv," said the Old Un, "best respex! 'Ere we be, come to say 'ow glad +we are t' see you come up smilin' an' ready for more after Fate ketchin' +ye a perishin' wallop as we all thought 'ad doubled ye up till the day +o' doom. 'Ere you are, on your pins again, an' 'ere 's us come t' give +ye greetin's doo an' j'y o' your marriage--shut up, Joe!" + +"Why, I wasn't speakin'!" growled Joe. + +"No, but you meant to--you're always meanin' to, you are. Guv," +continued the Old Un, "folks is allus a-givin' an' takin' in marriage in +this 'ere world, such bein' their natur'--they can't 'elp it! But never +in this world nor no other was there ever sich a weddin' as yours. There +was 'er so young an' fair an' full o' life, an' there was you so pale +an' nigh to death--one leg in the grave--an' there was me s' full o' +years an' wisdom an' sorrer for ye both--oh, my pore old bowels was fair +yearnin' over ye-" + +"Lord, Old Un," expostulated Joe, "you keep them bowels o' yours out of +it--" + +"Shut up, Joe, in your ignorance; bowels is in the Bible, an' bowels +I abide by now and forever, amen! Well, there we all were, Guv, bendin' +o'er your couch o' care very silent an' solemn, + +"'Not a drum was 'eard, not a funereal note' + +"an' there was you s' pale an' nigh t' death--" + +"You said all that afore, Old Un!" growled Joe. + +"You leave me alone, Joe," said the Old Un, scowling and flourishing a +trembling fist, "you lemme be, or you'll be pale an' nigh t' death next. +Well, there was you, Guv, an' all s' pale an' still when: ''Oo giveth +this woman?' says the parson-cove very solemn. 'That's me!' says I, +quick an' ready. An' so, me 'avin' 'elped t' marry you, I've brought +Joe an' Spider t' wish you 'ealth an' 'appiness an' a j'y continual. +Now, Joe, it's your round--speak up!" + +"Sir," said Joe heavily, "I--we--I mean--Lord, sir, I am that glad--ah, +glad as--as never was--" + +"That'll do for you, Joe!" snapped the Old Un. "Spider's round." + +Hereupon the Spider lurched forward, hunched his wide shoulders, took +off his smart cap, and stared at it very hard. + +"Bo," said he, chewing vigorously, "I mean boss--er--no, that ain't +right either--this is sure a bum start I'm makin'--" + +"Bo' will do, Spider," said Ravenslee, "let it go at that." + +"Why then, bo, I ain't one as is ever goin' t' win any gold-mounted +testimonials at any talk-fest or heart-throbbin' spiel-act, but what I +wanter tell you is this--an' I guess you know I ain't only breathin' out +puffs o' hot air--I want yer t' know as I feel about you like--like Joe +an' the Old Un does--an' then some more. Y' see, bo, though I ain't +never held a straight flush agin four aces an' don't expect to, though +I shan't ever be a world's champion like Joe here--I guess I know to-day +what it feels like, because you ain't goin' t' snuff it, after all--an' +now I guess you're on." Saying which, the Spider dexterously shifted +his wad to the other cheek and chewed faster than ever. + +"I am, Spider, and I want you to know I'm grateful to you, all three. +Also I want to thank you all for keeping this affair out of the papers, +though how you managed it beats me." + +"Guv," cried the Old Un, tremulous and eager, "oh, Guv, we're fair +sleuth-hounds, we are--specially me. There ain't a 'tective nor +secret-service cove nor bloomin' bobby fit to black our shoes--specially +mine! Y' see, Guv, I know who done it; Joe thinks he knows; an' Spider +don't think at all!" + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee, and looking around, caught the Spider watching him +wide-eyed, his jaws grimly tense and immobile; but meeting his glance, +the Spider lowered his eyes, shifted his smartly-gaitered legs, and +chewed viciously. + +"So, Guv," piped the Old Un cheerily, "we're out for the criminal's +gore--specially me. We're goin' to track the perisher to 'is 'orrible +doom-- + +"'Where'er he be + To th' gallers tree + Oh, Guv, we mean t' bring him; + An' laugh with j'y + When nice an' 'igh + The blinkin' bobbies swing 'im.'" + +"And you think you know who it was?" + +"I do, Guv, I do!" nodded the Old Un. "I knows as 'twas a enemy as done +it; Joe thinks it was one o' them gang fellers, an' Spider don't say who +he thinks done it." + +Once again Ravenslee caught the Spider's eye watching him furtively, and +once again he noticed that the Spider's jaws were clamped hard, while he +was twisting his natty chauffeur's cap in fingers strangely agitated. + +"Sir," said Joe, "me an' the Spider searched that wood, an' we found a +coat--" + +"Shut up, Joe," snarled the Old Un, "you're tellin' it all wrong. Guv, +Joe an' the Spider went a-seekin' an' a-searchin' that wood, an' they +found a--cloo--" + +"Oh?" said Ravenslee. + +"A cloo as is a-goin' t' 'ang somebody yet--a cloo, Guv, as ain't t' be +ekalled for blood-guilt an' mystery. Joe," said the Old Un, sinking his +voice to a hoarse whisper, "the hour is come--perjooce the cloo!" + +Hereupon Joe produced a pocketbook and took thence a highly ornate coat +button whereto a shred of cloth was attached. + +"I found this, sir," said he, "close by where you was a-lyin'." So +Ravenslee took the button upon his palm, and, as he eyed it, the Spider +saw his black brows twitch suddenly together, then--he yawned. + +"And you found this in the wood, Joe?" he enquired sleepily. + +"I did, sir. With that to help 'em, the perlice would have the murdering +cove in no time, and more than once I've been going to hand it over to +'em. But then I thought I'd better wait a bit; if you died was time +enough, an' if you didn't I'd keep it for you--so, sir, there it is." + +"You did quite right, Joe. Yes, you did very right indeed!" + +For a long moment Ravenslee sat languidly twisting the button in thin +white fingers, then flicked it far out over the balustrade down among +the dense evergreens in the garden below. The Old Un gasped, Joe gaped, +and the Spider sighed audibly. + +"Lorgorramighty! Oh, Guv, Guv--" quavered the old man, "you've throwed +away our cloo--our blood-cloo--th' p'lice--you've lost our evidence--" + +"Old Un, of course I have! You see, I don't like clews, or blood, or +the police. You have all been clever enough, wise enough to keep this +confounded business quiet, and so will I--" + +"But, oh, Guv, arter somebody tryin' t' kill ye like a dog--ain't there +goin' t' be no vengeance, no gallers-tree, no 'lectric chair nor +nothin'--" + +"Nothing!" answered Ravenslee gently. "Somebody tried to kill me, but +somebody didn't kill me; here I am, getting stronger every day, so we'll +let it go at that." + +"Why then--I'm done!" said the Old Un, rising. + +"Guv, you're crool an' stony-'carted! 'Ere 's me, a pore old cove as +has been dreamin' an' dreamin' o' gallers-trees an' 'lectric chairs, and +'ere 's you been an' took 'em off me! Guv, I'm disapp'inted wi' ye. Oh, +ingratitood, thou art the Guv!" So saying, the Old Un clapped on his hat +and creaked indignantly away. + +"Crumbs!" exclaimed Joe, "what a bloodthirsty old cove he is, with his +gallers-trees! This means jam, this does." + +"Jam?" repeated Ravenslee wonderingly. + +"Sir, whenever the Old Un's put out, 'e flies to jam same as some chaps +do to drink; makes a fair old beast of hisself, he do. If you'll excuse +us, sir, Spider an' me'll just keep a eye on him to see as he don't go +upsettin' his old innards again." + +Ravenslee nodded, and smiling, watched them hurry after the little old +man; but gradually his amusement waned, and he became lost in frowning +thought. So deeply abstracted was he that he started to find Mrs. Trapes +regarding him with her sharp, bright eyes. + +"Mr. Geoffrey, here's a cup o' beef tea as I've prepared with my own +hand--" + +"But where's--" + +"She's gone t' bed. Here's a cup o' beef tea as is stiff with +nourishment, so get it into your system good an' quick." + +"Gone to bed--" + +"She says it's a headache, o' course--drink it down while it's hot--but +I reckon it's more 'n a headache--yes, sir. A while back I says t' +you--'woo her,' I says, Mr. Geoffrey. I now says--let her alone awhile. +The poor child's all wore out--it's nerves as is the matter with her, I +reckon. So, Mr. Ravenslee, be patient, this ain't no wooin' time; it's +rest she needs an' change of air--" + +"Why, then, Mrs. Trapes, she shall have them!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE WOES OF MR. BRIMBERLY + + +Mr. Brimberly, having dined well as was his custom, lay at his ease +in a luxurious lounge chair in the shade of the piazza; the day was hot, +wherefore on a table at his elbow was a syphon, a bottle, and a long +glass in which ice tinkled alluringly; between his plump fingers was a +large cigar and across his plump knees was an open paper over which he +yawned and puffed and sipped in turn. Nevertheless Mr. Brimberly was +bored and dropping the paper, languidly cherished a languorous whisker, +staring dull-eyed across stately terraces and wide, neat lawns to where, +beyond winding yew walks and noble trees, the distant river flowed. + +Presently as he sat he was aware of a small girl in a white pinafore +approaching along one of these walks--a small being who hopped along by +means of a little crutch and sang to herself in a soft, happy voice. + +Mr. Brimberly blinked. + +Heedless of the eyes that watched her, the child turned into the rose +garden, pausing now and then to inhale the scent of some great bloom +that filled the air with its sweetness. + +Mr. Brimberly sat up, for he permitted few to enter the rose garden. + +All at once the child, singing still, reached up and broke off a great +scarlet bloom. + +Mr. Brimberly arose. + +"Little girl!" he called, in voice round and sonorous, "little girl, +come you 'ere and come immediate!" + +The child started, turned, and after a moment's hesitation hobbled +forward, her little face as white as her pinafore. At the foot of the +broad steps leading up to the piazza she paused, looking up at him with +great, pleading eyes. + +Mr. Brimberly beckoned with portentous finger. + +"Little girl, come 'ere!" he repeated. "Come up 'ere and come immediate!" + +The small crutch tapped laboriously up the steps, and she stood before +Mr. Brimberly's imposing figure mute, breathless, and trembling a +little. + +"Little girl," he demanded, threatening of whisker, "'oo are you +and--what?" + +"Please, I'm Hazel." + +"Oh, indeed," nodded Mr. Brimberly, pulling at his waistcoat. "'Azel +'oo, 'Azel what--and say 'sir' next time, if _you_ please." + +"Hazel Bowker, sir," and she dropped him a little curtsey, spoiled +somewhat by agitation and her crutch. + +"Bowker--Bowker?" mused Mr. Brimberly. "I've 'eard the name--I don't +like the name, but I've 'eard it." + +"My daddy works here, sir," said Hazel timidly. + +"Bowker--Bowker!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Ah, to be sure--one of the +hunder gardeners as I put on three or four weeks ago." + +"Yes, please, sir." + +"Little girl, what are you a-doin' in that garden? Why are you wandering +in the vicinity of this mansion?" + +"Please, I'm looking for Hermy." + +"'Ermy?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "'Ermy? Wot kind of creater may that +be? Is it a dog? Is it a cat? Wot is it?" + +"It's only my Princess Nobody, sir!" + +"Oh, a friend of yours--ha! Persons of that class do not pervade these +regions! And wot do I be'old grasped in your 'and?" + +Hazel looked down at the rose she held and trembled anew. + +"Little girl--wot is it?" demanded the inexorable voice. + +"A rose, sir." + +"Was it--your rose?" + +"N-no, sir." + +"Don't you know as it's a wicked hact to take what ain't yours? Don't +you know as it's thieving and robbery, and that thieving and robbery +leads to prison bars and shackle-chains?" + +"Oh, sir, I--I didn't mean--" the little voice was choked with sobs. + +"Well, let this be a warning to you to thieve no more, or next time I +shall 'ave to become angry. Now--go 'ence!" + +Dropping the rose the child turned and hobbled away as fast as her +crutch would allow, and Mr. Brimberly, having watched her out of sight, +emptied his glass and took up his cigar, but, finding it had gone out, +flung it away. Then he sighed and, sinking back among his cushions, +closed his eyes, and was soon snoring blissfully. + +But by and by Mr. Brimberly began to dream, a very evil dream wherein it +seemed that for many desperate deeds and crime abominable he was chained +and shackled in a dock, and the judge, donning the black cap, sentenced +him to be shorn of those adornments, his whiskers. In his dream it +seemed that there and then the executioner advanced to his fell work--a +bony hand grasped his right whisker, the deadly razor flashed, and Mr. +Brimberly awoke gurgling--awoke to catch a glimpse of a hand so hastily +withdrawn that it seemed to vanish into thin air. + +"'Eavens and earth!" he gasped, and clapping hand to cheek was relieved +to find his whisker yet intact, but for a long moment sat clutching that +handful of soft and fleecy hair, staring before him in puzzled wonder, +for the hand had seemed so very real he could almost feel it there yet. +Presently, bethinking him to glance over his shoulder, Mr. Brimberly +gasped and goggled, for leaning over the back of his chair was a little, +old man, very slender, very upright, and very smart as to attire, who +fanned himself with a jaunty straw hat banded in vivid crimson; an old +man whose bright, youthful eyes looked out from a face wizened with age, +while up from his bald crown rose a few wisps of white and straggling +hair. + +"'Oly 'eavens!" murmured Mr. Brimberly in a faint voice. + +The visitor, settling his bony elbows more comfortably, fanned himself +until his sparse locks waved gently to and fro, and, nodding, spoke +these words: + +"Oh, wake thee, oh, wake thee, my bonny bird, + Oh, wake and sleep no more; + Thy pretty pipe I 'ave n't 'eard, + But, lumme, how you snore!" + +Mr. Brimberly stared; Mr. Brimberly's mouth opened, and eventually Mr. +Brimberly rose and surveyed the intruder slowly, up from glittering +shoes to the dome of his head and down again; and Mr. Brimberly's ample +bosom surged, his eye kindled, and his whiskers--! + +"Cheer-o!" nodded the Old Un. + +Mr. Brimberly blinked and pulled down his waistcoat. + +"Me good man," said he, "you'll find the tradesmen's entrance round the +corner. Go away, if you please, and go immediate--I'm prehoccupied." + +"No, you ain't; you're the butler, you are, I lay my oath-- + +"'Spoons an' forks + An' drawin' corks' + +"that's your job, ain't it, chum?" + +"Chum!" said Mr. Brimberly in tones of horror. "Chum!" he repeated, +grasping a handful of indignant whisker. "Oh, outragious! Oh, very +hobscene! 'Ow dare you, sir? 'Oo are you, sir, eh, sir--answer me, an' +answer--prompt!" + +"Leave them cobwebs alone, an' I'll tell you, matey." + +"Matey!" groaned Mr. Brimberly, turning up his eyes. + +"I'm the Guv's familiar friend and personal pal, I am. I'm 'is +adviser, confeedential, matreemonial, circumstantial, an' architect'ral. +I'm 'is trainer, advance agent, manager, an' sparrin' partner--that's +who I am. An' now, mate, 'avin' 'elped to marry 'im, I've jest took a +run down 'ere to see as all things is fit an' proper for 'is 'oneymoon!" + +"My word, this is a mad feller, this is!" murmured Mr. Brimberly, "or +else 'e 's drunk!" + +"Drunk?" exclaimed the Old Un, clapping on his hat very much over one +eye and glaring, "wot--me?" + +"I repeat," said Mr. Brimberly, addressing the universe in general, "I +repeats as 'e is a narsty, drunken little person!" + +"Person?" cried the Old Un, scowling, "why, you perishin'--" + +"Old!" said Mr. Brimberly, "'old, I beg! Enough 'as been said--go 'ence! +'Oo you are I do not know, wot you are I do not care, but in these +regions you do not remain; your langwidge forbids and--" + +"Langwidge?" snorted the Old Un. "Why, I ain't begun yet, you blinkin', +fat-faced, owl-eyed piece o' sooet--" + +"Your speech, sir," continued Mr. Brimberly with calm austerity and +making the most of whiskers and waistcoat, "your speech is redolent of +slums and back halleys. I don't know you. I don't want to know you! You +are a feller! Go away, feller!" + +"Feller?" snarled the Old Un, "why you--" + +"I repeat," said Mr. Brimberly with dignified deliberation, "I repeat as +you are a very low, vulgar little feller!" + +The Old Un clenched his fists. + +"Right-o!" he nodded cheerily. "That's done it! F' that I'm a-goin' t' +punch ye in th' perishin' eye-'ole!" And he advanced upon the points of +his toes, shoulders hunched, and head viciously outthrust. + +"My word!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, retreating rather precipitately, +"this is very discomposing, this is! I shall have to call the perlice." + +"Perlice!" snarled the Old Un, fiercer than ever, "you won't have +nothing t' call with when I've done wi' ye. I'm goin' t' jab ye on th' +beak t' begin with, then I'll 'ook my left t' your kidneys an' swing my +right to your p'int an' crumple ye up with a jolt on your perishin' +solar plexus as 'll stiffen you till th' day o' doom!" + +"'Oly angels!" murmured Mr. Brimberly, glancing hastily about. + +"Then while you lay bathed in 'orrible gore, I'm goin' t' twist them +whiskers into a 'angman's knot!" + +"This is most distressing!" sighed Mr. Brimberly. + +"Then," continued the Old Un, grinding his remaining teeth, "I'm +a-goin' t' tread your face in an' dance on y'r blighted stummick. Arter +that--" + +"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Brimberly, retreating before the oncoming +peril and mopping perspiring brow. But suddenly his wandering eye was +arrested by velvet and gold braid, and lifting up his voice he called: + +"William! James! Come 'ere--and come sharp!" + +Two vast and splendid shapes loomed upon the scene, supermen whose +silken calves quivered with unaccustomed haste; at a sign from Mr. +Brimberly they seized upon the Old Un and, despite ghoulish threats, +solemnly bore him off. + +Down the broad sweep of drive they went, the Old Un pouring forth fluent +curses with every step, until they came to a powerful automobile from +beneath which a pair of neatly gaitered legs protruded. + +"Joe!" cried the Old Un, apostrophising these legs, "Joe, stop bein' a +crawlin' worm--come out an' bash these perishers for me, like a good +lad!" But even while he spoke, the footmen hauled him along, so that +when Joe eventually wriggled from under the car the three were close +against the great gates. + +The Old Un was earnestly explaining to his captors exactly what he +thought of them, of their fathers and mothers, their kith and kin, and +the supermen were heeding him not the least, when a thunderbolt seemed +to smite them asunder, and Joe was glancing mild-eyed from one +splendid, supine form to the other. + +"Hullo, Old Un!" said he, "what's the matter now, you old book o' bad +language, you?" + +But Mr. Brimberly, somewhat shaken with his late interview and feeling +the need of a stimulant, had just refilled the long glass when, hearing +a rustle behind him, he turned and beheld a tall woman, elderly and +angular, especially as to chin and elbows, which last obtruded +themselves quite unpleasantly; at least, as he eyed them there was +manifest disapprobation in every hair of his whiskers. + +"Now I wonder," he sighed plaintively, "I wonder what under the blue +expandment of 'oly 'eaven you might be, because if you 'appen to be the +washing--" + +"I--am--not!" + +"Or the cannybal missions--" + +"No--sech--thing!" + +"Oh!" said Mr. Brimberly, and his gaze wandered to the elbows. "Why, +then, let me hinform you--" + +"Ann Angelina Trapes is me name." + +"Why then, ma'am, you've took the wrong turning. 'Owbeit an' +notwithstanding, 'ooever you are and nevertheless, you will find the +tradespeople's entra--" + +"You're the gentleman as is so obligin' as to be Mr. Ravenslee's +butler, ain't you?" + +"Sich is my perfession," Mr. Brimberly admitted. "I am in sole charge of +these premises and so being will ask you to withdraw 'ence immediate. I +will ask--" + +"An' I'll ask you, very p'inted, what you reckon you're doin' in that +chair?" + +"Doing?" + +"I'll ask you, very p'inted, why you're loafin' around wastin' your +master's time?" + +"Loafing?" cried Mr. Brimberly, very red in the face. "Loaf--" + +"I also ask you, very p'inted, wherefore an' why you loaf, guzzlin' an' +swillin' your master's good liquor?" + +"Guzzling!" gasped Mr. Brimberly. "Oh, 'eavens, this is a outrage, this +is! I'll--" + +"It sure is! An' so are you, winebibber!" + +"Winebib--" Mr. Brimberly choked, his round face grew purple, and he +flourished pudgy fists while Mrs. Trapes folded her cotton-gloved hands +and watched him. + +"Winebibber!" she nodded. "An' the wine as you now bib is your master's, +consequently it was stole, an' bein' stole you're a thief, an' bein' a +thief--" + +"Thief!" gurgled Mr. Brimberly. "Ha, thief's a hepithet, thief is, and a +hepithet 's hactionable! I'll 'ave you indented for perjoorious +expressions--" + +"Winebibber!" she sighed. "Snake an' plunderer!" + +"Never," cried Mr. Brimberly, "never in all my days did I ever 'earken +to such contoomacious contoomacity! 'Oo are you an' wot--" + +"Hand over that bottle and what you've left o' them cigars!" + +"Woman, begone!" he cried hoarsely. "Woman, if you don't go 'ence this +very moment, I'll have you persecuted with the hutmost vigour o' the +law for a incorrigible--female!" + +"Female!" repeated Mrs. Trapes; and clasping herself in her long, bony +arms she shuddered and smiled, though her eyes glared more stonily, and +her elbows suggested rapier points, daggers, and other deadly weapons of +offence. + +"Female it were, I think?" she enquired with another grim and smiling +shudder. "Now, sir, to you I sez, debased creecher, I sez, vulgar an' +dishonest loafer, I sez, sly an' subtle serpent, I sez, return to the +back scullery wherefrom you sprang lest I seize you by the hair of your +cheeks an' bounce your silly head against the wall--frequent, I sez!" +and very slowly, Mrs. Trapes moved toward him. + +Mr. Brimberly hesitated, but before those deadly elbows he blenched, his +whiskers wilted all at once, and he retreated backwards; across the +spacious drawing room, along the hall and down the stairs he went, his +pace ever accelerating, until, in full flight, he reached the sanctuary +of his pantry, where, having locked himself securely in, he sank panting +into a chair to mop beaded brow. + +"My word!" said Mr. Brimberly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES UPON HIMSELF A NEW ROLE + + +Soapy was alone, which in itself was no new thing, for Soapy was a +solitary soul at all times; but just now he sat close against the +rotting fence which skirted that desolation behind O'Rourke's saloon. +Moreover, it was night, and solitude profound was his. He sat on a +battered and disused pail that chanced to be handy, a smouldering +cigarette dangling from his thin-lipped mouth, his long hands pendulous +between his knees, his pallid eyelids sleepily a-droop; but his eyes, +quick and watchful, scanned the deeper gloom of fence and dismal +outbuilding, and he sat there very patient and very still. At last he +stirred slightly, the cigarette quivered and was motionless again, for, +amid the shadows, he had seen a dim shape that flitted swiftly toward +him; on it came, creeping swift and silent beside the fence, nearer and +nearer until it resolved itself into a slender form. Then Soapy spoke. + +"Hello, Kid!" + +Ensued a moment of tense silence, then Spike answered, his voice +unnaturally thin and high-pitched. + +"That--that you, Soapy?" + +"'S right, Kid!" + +"What you--doin' around--here?" + +"Who, me? Y' see, I'm kind o' yearnin' for that gun you got there--" + +"Gun? I--I ain't got--no gun--" + +"Well, Kid, I know Heine's all kinds of a liar, but he tells me he's +loaned you one of his, an' so--" Soapy's long arm shot out in the gloom +and seizing Spike's right arm he drew it near. "Why, Kid," said he, "it +kind o' looks like Heine told the truth for once by accident, don't +it?" + +"You leggo my wrist!" + +"Right-o, Kid, right-o! Don't get peeved--" + +"Well, leggo then!" + +"Sure! Only this artillery ain't goin' t' be no good t' you t'night--ye +see, Bud--ain't here! 'S rough on ye, Kid, 's rough, but he ain't!" + +"W--what--d' ye mean?" stammered the boy. + +"I mean as you comin' here t' plug holes in Bud's carcase it's kind o' +rough on you as there ain't goin' t' be no carcase here to plug. Y' see, +Bud's took his carcase up-town with him t'night--" + +"You're a liar, Soapy, a liar! Bud's inside, I know he is. Leggo my +arm, you can't con me!" + +"'S right, Kid, I ain't tryin'. Only I'm tellin' you Bud's left me an' +Lefty t' run things here t'night. Bud's up-town at his old man's place. +I know because--I sent him, see?" + +"You sent him--you? Ah, come off! You couldn't!" + +"'S right, Kid; I got him away by a fake telegram." + +The boy ventured a long, quivering sigh, his whole frame relaxed, and in +that instant Soapy wrenched the weapon from his loosened hold and rose. +Choking with passion, Spike sprang at him, but Soapy fended him off with +a long arm. + +"Gimme that gun!" + +"Behave, Kid, behave, else I'll have t' dot ye one! Be good an' chase +off home; this ain't no place for you t'night--nor no other time." + +"Gimme that gun!" + +"No!" + +Spike ceased the useless struggle and leaned against the fence, panting, +while Soapy reseated himself upon the battered pail. + +"What you got t' come buttin' in for?" demanded the boy, "this ain't +your show, an' I guess you ain't so mighty fond o' Bud either--" + +"'S right, too," nodded Soapy, "no, I ain't exactly fond of him, Kid; +leastways I don't run t' help him if he falls nor kiss th' place t' make +it well--no, Kid! But I kind o' feel that Bud's too good t' snuff it +this way, or snuff it--yet!" + +"Good?" said the lad bitterly, "good--hell! He's ruined me, Soapy, he's +done me in! He's come between me an'--an' Hermy. He tried t' make me +think dirt of her, an' now--now I--I'm all alone; I ain't got nobody +left--oh, my God!" and huddling to the fence, Spike broke out into a +fierce and anguished sobbing, while Soapy, spinning the revolver +dexterously on his finger, watched him under drooping lids. + +"She was mighty good t' ye, Hermy was!" said he thoughtfully. + +"Don't--ah, don't!" gasped Spike. + +"An' when he spoke dirt of her, you--believed him, Kid!" + +"I didn't." + +"You did, else you'd have been with her now. She was always good t' +you, Hermy was, but you--well, you preferred Bud!" + +"I didn't, Soapy; God knows I didn't--only--I thought Bud would make me +a champion--" + +"By gettin' ye soused, Kid!" + +"Oh, I know--I know now he's only been stringin' me all along--I know +now it's too late--that's why I'm goin' t' kill him." + +"Kill him!" mused Soapy. "Kid, there's good killings an' bad killin's, +an' I reckon this 'ud be a good killin', maybe. But this ain't your +job." + +"Why--why ain't it?" + +"Well, you got a sister f'r one thing, an' besides, you ain't a killer." + +"You gimme that gun an' see!" cried the lad, reaching out a hand +tremulous and eager. + +"When the time came, Kid, 'stead o' shootin', you'd drop your gun like +that time in th' wood." + +"Th' wood!" Spike's voice dropped to a strangled whisper and he shrank +back against the fence. "You--my God, you--saw--!" + +"'S right, Kid, I was there! An' I'm kind o' glad y' couldn't do it, +glad for your sister's sake. But what I'm thinkin' is that maybe she +thinks it was you--eh, Kid?" + +Spike writhed and groaned. + +"Eh, Kid?" + +"Yes!" + +"Why, then, if I was you, I'd skin off right now an' put her wise; it +may mean a whole lot t' her. Y' know where she is--go an' tell her, +Kid." + +"I can't! I can't--she don't want me no more, she's done wi' me, I +guess. I'm--oh, I'm too low-down an' rotten!" + +"Sure!" nodded Soapy. "But she's good, an' she's a woman; an' good +women are only made t' forgive, I reckon." + +"But there's Geoff! I--I couldn't face Geoff." + +"That's because you think a heap too much about a low-down rotten guy +called Spike. I guess it's about time you began t' think about your +sister f' a change. Well, s' long, Kid, I guess I'll be movin'; this +pail comes a bit sharp after an hour of it." + +So saying, Soapy rose, nodded, and strolled away, still twirling the +revolver upon that long and dexterous finger. For a moment Spike stood +looking after him, then, chin on breast, turned and went his solitary +way across the desolate waste. But now it was Soapy who, pausing, turned +to watch him safe out of sight. Scarcely had the sound of Spike's +departure died away than a door opened and closed hard by, and heavy +steps approached, halted suddenly, and a hoarse voice demanded: + +"Who's there?" + +"Why, this is me, Bud." + +"What th' hell are ye hangin' around out here for?" questioned M'Ginnis +suspiciously. + +"Countin' th' stars, Bud, an' doin' th' Providence act--midst of life +we are in death' gag--" + +"Aw, cut out that slush an' hike along t' Rayner's wi' me; I got a job +for you an' Heine--" + +Side by side they crossed the gloomy, open lot until they were come +beneath a lamp at a certain bleak street corner. Here Soapy paused and +held out his hand, open to the light. + +"This don't happen t' be your ring, Bud?" he enquired lazily. + +M'Ginnis glanced at the ring upon that narrow palm, a ring wrought into +the semblance of two hands that clasped each other, looked closer, drew +in his breath suddenly, then straightened his shoulders and threw back +his head. + +"No!" he answered, frowning into Soapy's imperturbable face, "what th' +hell made you think it was?" + +"Why, ye see, Bud, it happens t' have your name scratched inside it, +that's all. But if it ain't yours, it ain't!" And speaking, Soapy tossed +the ring back over his shoulder far out into the open lot. + +For a long moment M'Ginnis stood motionless, staring back at that +desolate plot of ground; when at last he glanced toward his companion, +Soapy was lighting a fresh cigarette. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE OLD UN ADVISES AND RAVENSLEE ACTS + + +In the rose garden was an arbour smothered in riotous bloom, and in the +arbour was a divan, wide and low and voluptuously soft, meet for the +repose of an invalid on a languorous afternoon, or indeed any other +time. But just now the invalid reposed not at all but sat, elbow on knee +and square chin on fist, very lonely and therefore very grim. + +All about him roses bloomed, filling the air with their sweetness, but +he had no eyes for their beauty; upon the table within reach of his hand +were books and magazines, but he was in no mood for reading; clasped +between strong white teeth he held his favourite pipe unlighted and +cold, for tobacco had for him no savour. So he sat and scowled at the +universe in general, and in particular at a robin that had boldly +ventured near and was regarding him with a very round, bright eye. + +"She's avoiding me!" said Ravenslee bitterly, teeth clenched upon his +pipestem, "there's no doubt about it, damn it; she's avoiding me! And +she's not happy here either!" + +The robin turned his head to regard the speaker with his other eye, then +fluttered his wings and flew away as the lazy quiet of the afternoon was +broken by the squeak of shoe leather, and glancing up, Ravenslee beheld +the Old Un. + +"What cheer, Guv," said he, "greetin's doo and how's the invalid?" + +"Invalid!" repeated Ravenslee, scowling again, "I'm no invalid!" + +"Spoke like a true-bred gamecock, s' help me!" + +"I'm as right as rain physically, Old Un, but--" + +"Talkin' o' physic, Guv," said the old man, seating himself and nodding +brightly, "talkin' o' physic, the physic as set you on your pins again +was love, Guv, love!" + +"But it so happens--" + +"Wait a bit, I ain't done, Guv! 'Ere 's me, a old cove as 'as lived +'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears longer 'n you, so nacherally I'm a +powerful lot fuller o' th' wisdom o' life than you, specially in matters +o' th' 'eart, Guv. Now me, 'avin' 'elped you into th' matrimonial ring, +as you might say, 'ave took your 'appiness under my wing, an', Guv, I +don't like the way you're shapin'--" + +"But you see--" + +"'Old 'ard, Guv, let a pore old cove get a word in for a change. Now +there's you an' 'er, your fair young spouse, both up to each other's +weight, sound in wind an' limb an' meant for j'y--what I want is +t' see you come to a clinch! This ain't no time for sparrin' an' +out-fightin'--yet 'ere you are a-feintin' at each other from opposite +corners--" + +"But--" + +"'Arf a mo', Guv, 'arf a mo'--gimme a chance for a occasional word! An' +don't frown, Guv, don't frown at a pore old cove; y' see, there's jest +three blokes in this 'ard world as my old 'eart warms to, an' one on 'em +'s Joe, an' t' other un 's you, an' t' other un 's 'er--which ain't a +bloke. Lord, Guv, what a soft armful o' beauty! 'Ow warm an' cuddlesome! +Oh, Guv, what a waist! What lips! What--" + +"Old Un, for heaven's sake, shut up! D' you think I'm blind? D' you +think--" + +"Guv, I dunno wot t' think! 'Ere 's you with your 'ead in your 'ands, +an' there's 'er sighin' an' sighin'--" + +"Sighing? Where? When? Why--" + +"Sighin' an' sighin', Guv, so soft an' pretty--I 'eard 'er! Also she +wep'--I seen 'er." + +"Where?" + +"An' 'er tears, Guv, them pearly tears went t' my 'eart--an' nobody t' +put a arm round that waist, nor kiss them sweet lips, nor soothe them +tears away-- + +"'Oh, alone she sat sighin' by a green willer tree, + With 'er 'and on 'er bosom, 'er 'ead on 'er knee, + Weepin' willer" willer, willer my garlan' shall be.' + +"So, Guv, I ax you, man to man, why, oh, why are ye neglectin' your fair +young spouse? An', Guv, I only ax because your 'appiness an' 'ers is +mine--s' 'elp me!" + +"How if it's the other way about, Old Un? Suppose she avoids me?" + +"Why lumme, Guv! 'T is a sure sign she needs persoot. Remember this: + +"'Im as would lovely woman woo + 'E lovely woman must persoo, + For if 'e don't, 't is plain as plain + That feller 'e will woo in vain.' + +"An', Guv, I've only took th' liberty o' sayin' this because my pore old +bowels yearns to ye--both on ye. Persoot's the word, Guv, per-soot!" + +The Old Un nodded, rose, and creaked away, and Ravenslee, looking after +him, scowled no longer, but rising, sauntered across the trim garden to +where there was a lily pool and, leaning over the marble rim, stared +down into the placid water. + +Now as the Old Un went his way, there met him a little girl, very neat +and tidy, who sang to herself in a small happy voice and tapped along on +a crutch; but beholding the Old Un, his dazzling shoes, his rakish hat, +she stood silent all at once, glancing up wistfully into that fierce, +battered old face. + +"Lumme--crutches!" he exclaimed. + +"No, please--only one, sir!" she answered, dropping him a little, +old-fashioned curtsey. + +"Crikey!" said he, staring, "so young, so tender, an'--a game leg! A +little angel wi' a broke wing--lumme!" + +So Age and Youth stared at each other and she, being a child, was quick +to heed that the eyes so bright beneath their hoary brows were kindly +eyes, and the smile upon the grim old mouth was very reassuring, +wherefore she smiled also. + +"Only one crutch, sir," she repeated. "An' the doctor says as I won't +want it much longer, sir." Here, dropping another curtsey, she held up +for his acceptance a bunch of wild flowers. + +"What--f' me, little maid?" he enquired. + +"Yes, please, sir." + +"Why bless--bless your lovin' little 'eart!" quavered the old man, and +stooped to touch her rosy cheek with a hand gnarled and scarred with +much hard punching, yet a very gentle hand indeed. "God bless that +little game leg, but pretty flowers 'ud be wasted on a old bloke like +me. You take 'em to th' Guv, see--over there--that tall chap leanin' +over th' pool. But first gimme a--a kiss instead, will ye, little lass?" + +"I'd like to, sir." + +And when the Old Un had kissed and been kissed right heartily, he +pointed to Ravenslee's distant, lounging figure, winked, nodded, and +squeaked away. + +Thus it was that Ravenslee, absorbed in thought, was presently roused by +the quick light tapping of the little crutch and glanced up. + +"Oh!" she cried softly; the flowers fell and lay neglected as, clasping +her hands, she stared up at him in radiant-eyed wonder. + +"Welcome, Highness!" said he and bowed. + +"Oh, it's the Prince--my dear Prince! Oh, Goody!" and she hastened +toward him, then stopped all at once, puzzled and abashed because of his +elegant attire. Perceiving which he reached out and drew her down by him +on the marble seat beside the pool. + +"Why this sudden change of demeanour, Princess?" he enquired. "What's +the matter?" + +"You're--you're so different, sir--so different an' grand in all them +cute clo'es, sir." + +"Am I, dear? But I'm just the same inside, you know. And, for heaven's +sake, Princess, do not call me 'sir.'" + +"But the big gentleman that belongs here an' has all these lovely +flowers an' everything--he says as I must always say 'sir.'" + +"Big gentleman?" + +"Yes, the big, soft gentleman with the cute little curls on his cheeks." + +"Oh--him!" said Ravenslee, laughing suddenly. "Indeed a very just +description, Princess. But you don't have to worry about him any more; +he's gone." + +"Gone? For good?" + +"For very good indeed!" + +"Doesn't all this beautiful, beautiful place belong t' him any more?" + +"Never any more." + +"Have you come here 'stead of him? Come t' stay?" + +"Yes." + +"An' can I pick a rose t' kiss sometimes?" + +"As many as you like." + +"Oh!" sighed the child rapturously, nestling within his arm, "isn't that +just--fine! I guess this sure is the Beautiful City of Perhaps, after +all!" + +"I wonder?" + +"Oh, but I'm sure it is--now th' gentleman's gone I just know it is!" + +"What makes you so sure?" + +"Everything! 'Cause you see, Prince, my daddy don't have t' be away all +day any more. An' mumsey don't have t' sew late, nights, any more. An' +when we came into the cute little house where we live--there was the +doll that says 'mamma' jest waitin' f' me. An' there was a big box o' +candies, an' a doll carriage with real rubber on th' wheels--jest like +we used to talk about. So you see this must be Perhaps at last, an' I'm +so--so happy--only--" Hazel sighed. + +"Only what?" + +"I do wish Hermy could find her way here too; she used t' be so tired +sometimes." + +"You mean that you would like to find Princess Nobody, I guess." + +"Oh, but I can't! I used to look an' look for her every day 'til th' +gentleman said she wasn't here, an' told me never t' come near th' big +house any more." + +"But he's gone, and you never had me to help you." + +"Oh, will you--will you help me right now?" she pleaded. + +"Surest thing you know!" he nodded, "your hand, Princess." + +So hand in hand he led her, suiting his long legs to hers, along shady +walks, up terrace steps, across smooth lawns, and so to the great house. +Hazel paused to question him further concerning "the gentleman", but +Ravenslee laughed and, seating her upon his shoulder, bore her into the +house. + +In her housekeeper's room, surrounded by many dusty bill files and +stacks of account books, they presently found Mrs. Trapes, whose +hawk's-eye viewed bills and tradesmen's books while she frowned and +muttered such comments as "Rogues!" "Thieves!" "Scand'lous!" "Wicked!" +Until glancing up, her sharp features softened, and she smiled up into +the child's happy face. + +"So Hazel's found ye, has she, Mr. Geoffrey. An' talkin' o' her, you've +sure made the Bowkers a happy fam'ly. But, my land, Mr. Ravenslee, the +scand'lous prices as th' tradespeople has been allowed t' charge you +these last six months! Here's th' butcher--listen t' this--" + +"Heaven forbid, Mrs. Trapes! Rather let that butcher listen to you, +miserable wretch!" + +"An' there's the milkman--that milkman's cows ought t' blush at th' +sound o' your name! Here's his accounts for the last six months, an' I've +found--" + +"Have you, Mrs. Trapes? We're trying to find Hermione--where is she?" + +"Oh, she's in her room--laying down, I guess." + +"Not," enquired Ravenslee, "not--er--in bed, is she?" + +"Mr. Geoffrey, I don't know; I'm busy. Go an' see for yourself--she's +your wife, ain't she?" + +"Why, since you ask, I--er--hardly know," he answered a little ruefully, +"anyway, found she shall be." + +With the child perched upon his shoulder he strode up-stairs and along +wide corridors whose deep carpets gave forth no sound, and so reached a +certain door. Here he hesitated a moment, then knocked with imperious +hand. + +"Come in!" called that voice whose soft inflection had always thrilled +him, but never as it did now as, turning the handle, he entered his +wife's chamber. + +Hermione was standing before a long mirror, and she neither turned nor +looked from the radiant vision it reflected; her eyes, her attention, +all the feminine soul of her being just then fixed and centered upon the +tea gown she was trying on; such a garment as she had gloated over in +the store windows, yearned for, but never thought to possess. + +"Ann," she sighed, "oh, Ann, isn't it exquisite! Isn't it a perfect +dream! Of course it needs a wee bit of alteration here and there, but +I can do that. Isn't it good of him to have bought it without saying a +word! And there are heaps of dresses and robes and--and everything! A +complete trousseau, Ann, dear--think of it! I wonder how he knew my +size--" + +"Oh, I just guessed it, my dear," answered Ravenslee in the voice of a +much experienced husband. + +Hermione gasped, and turning, stared at him wide-eyed, seeing only him, +conscious only of him. Lifting Hazel to the floor, he seated himself +upon her bed and, crossing his legs, eyed her flushed loveliness with a +matter-of-fact air. "Really," he continued, "I don't see that it needs +any alteration; perhaps the sleeves might be a trifle shorter--show a +little more arm. But those flounces and things are perfect! I hope all +the other things fit as well?" + +Hermione flushed deeper still and caught her breath. + +"Oh, Hermy," said a soft, pleading little voice, "won't you see me, +please?" + +Hermione started, her long lashes drooped suddenly, and then--then, +forgetful of costly lace, of dainty ruffles and ribbons, she was on her +knees and had the child close in her arms. And beholding the clasp of +those round, white arms, the lovely, down-bent head, and all the tender, +craving, inborn motherhood of her, Ravenslee held his breath, and into +his eyes came a light of reverent adoration. + +Presently he rose and left them together, but as he went, the light was +in his eyes still. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +CONCERNING A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES + + +"And so," said Hermione, as she waved good-by to Hazel, who stood in the +cottage doorway with Mrs. Bowker--a Mrs. Bowker no longer faded, "you +didn't forget even the doll that says 'Mamma'?" + +"It was such a little thing!" he answered. + +"What a--man you are!" she said softly. + +"Just that, Hermione," he answered, "and--frightfully human!" She was +silent. "Do you know what I mean?" he demanded, glancing at her averted +face. + +"Yes!" she answered, without looking around. So they walked for awhile +in silence. Suddenly he seized her hand and drew it through his arm. + +"Hermione," he said gently, "I want my wife." + +She still kept her head averted, but he could feel how she was +trembling. + +"And you think--" she began softly. + +"That I have been patient long enough. I have waited and hoped +because--" + +"Because you are so generous, so kind--such a man!" she said softly and +with head still averted. + +"And yet since I have been well again, you have kept me at arm's length. +Dear, you--love me still, don't you?" + +"Love you?" she repeated, "love you?" For a moment she turned and looked +up at him then drew her arm from his and walked on with head averted +once more. So they entered the rose garden and coming to the lily pool +leaned there side by side. + +"Hermione," said he, staring down into the water, "if you really love +me, why do you hate to kiss me? Why do you hardly suffer me to touch +you? And you've never even called me by my name, that I remember!" + +"Geoffrey!" she breathed; "and I--love you to touch me! And I don't hate +to kiss you, Geoffrey dear." + +"Then why do you keep me at arm's length?" + +"Do I?" she questioned softly, gazing down at the lily pads. + +"You know you do. Why?" + +"Well--because." + +"Because what?" + +"Oh, well, just--because." + +"Hermione--tell me." + +"Well, everything is so strange--so unreal! This great house, the +servants, all the beautiful clothes you bought me! To have so very much +of everything after having to do with so very little--it's all so +wonderful and--dreadful!" + +"Dreadful?" + +"You are so--dreadfully rich!" + +"Is that the reason you keep me at such a distance? Is that why you +avoid me?" + +"Avoid you?" + +"Yes, dear. You've done it very sweetly and delicately, but you have +avoided me lately. Why?" + +Hermione didn't answer. + +"And you haven't touched any of the monthly allowance I make you," he +went on, frowning a little, "not one cent. Why, Hermione?" + +Hermione was silent. + +"Tell me!" + +Still she was silent, only she bent lower above the pool and drew +further from him, whereat his pale cheek flushed, and his frown grew +blacker. + +And presently, as he scowled down into the water, she stole a look at +him, and when she spoke, though the words were light, the quiver in her +voice belied them. + +"Invalid, dear, if you want to be angry with me, wait--till you're a +little stronger." + +Ravenslee stooped and picked up a handful of small pebbles that chanced +to lie loose. + +"Wife, dear," said he, "I'm as well and strong as ever I was. But I've +asked you several questions which I mean you to answer, so I am going to +give you until I have pitched all these pebbles into the water, and +then--" Hermione glanced up swiftly. + +"Then?" she questioned. + +"Why then, if you haven't answered, I shall--take matters into my own +hands. One!" and a pebble splashed into the pool. + +"What do you want to know?" + +"Two! Why haven't you condescended to take your allowance?" + +"Dear, I--I didn't need it, and even if I had, I--oh, I couldn't take +it--yet!" + +"Three! Why not?" + +"Because you have given me so much already, and I--have given +you--nothing." + +"Four! Why--haven't you?" + +"Oh--well--because!" + +"Five! What does 'because' mean, this time?" + +"It means--just--because!" + +"Six! Seven! Eight! Why have you avoided me lately?" + +Hermione was silent, watching him with troubled eyes while he slowly +pitched the pebbles into the pool, counting as they fell. + +"Nine! Ten! Eleven! Twelve! Why do you keep me at arm's length?" + +"I don't--I--I--you won't let me--" she said a little breathlessly, +while one by one he let the pebbles fall into the pool, counting +inexorably as they fell. + +"Thirteen! Fourteen, fifteen--and that's the last!" As he spoke he +turned toward her, and she, reading something of his purpose in his +eyes, turned to flee, felt his long arms about her, felt herself swung +up and up and so lay crushed and submissive in his fierce embrace as he +turned and began to bear her across the garden. Then, being helpless, +she began to plead with him. + +"Ah, don't, don't--dear! Geoffrey! Put me down! Where are you taking me? +If any one sees us--" + +"Let them!" he muttered grimly; "you're my wife!" + +So he bore her across the garden into the arbour and laying her upon the +divan, sank beside it on his knees, panting a little. + +"A little weak--still!" said he, "but not so bad--you're no scraggy +sylph, thank heaven! Hermione--look at me!" But she turned and hid her +face against him, for his clasp was close about her still. So he stooped +and kissed her hair, her glowing cheek, her soft white neck, and, in +that instant--wonder of wonders--her arms were around him, strong, +passionate arms that clung and drew him close--then strove wildly to +hold him away. + +"Loose me!" she cried, "let me go! Geoffrey--husband, be generous and +let me go!" But he lifted her head, back and back across his arm until +beneath her long lashes her eyes looked into his. + +"Hermione, when will you--be my wife?" + +Against him he could feel the sweet hurry of her breathing, and stooping +he spoke again, lip to lip: + +"Hermione, when will you be my wife?" + +But, even while he kissed her, between those quivering, parted lips came +a murmur of passionate prayer and pleading. + +"Oh, my love, wait--wait! Let me tell you--ah, loose me and let me tell +you." + +Slowly his hold relaxed, and, twisting in his arms, she slipped upon her +knees beside him, and, crouching close, hid her face against him. + +"Beloved," she whispered quickly, breathlessly, "oh, dear man that I +love so--there is something between us, a shadow of shame and horror +that is with me day and night and always must be. While you lay sick it +was there, torturing me with every moan and sigh you uttered. It is +with me wherever I go--it is between us now--yes, now--even while I +strain you in my arms like this. I have watched you grow strong and well +again, I've seen the love in your eyes, and I've yearned to be to +you--all you would have me, but because of this shadow I--dare not. Ah, +God, how can I be wife to you when--let this answer for me." And she +placed in Ravenslee's hand a coat button whereto a piece of cloth +adhered. "Dear love, I saw you throw it away," she explained, "and I +searched and searched until I found it." + +"Why?" + +"Because I knew you would soon ask me--this question, and I have kept it +for my answer. Ah, God! how can I be wife to you when my brother would +have killed you--murdered you!" + +Ravenslee hurled the button far away, then lifting Hermione's bowed +head, spoke very tenderly. + +"How does all this affect our love, Hermione, except to show me you are +even sweeter and nobler than I had thought. And as for the shadow, it +is--only a shadow after all." + +"But it is my shame!" she answered. "You might have had for wife the +sister of a thief, but not--oh, God! not the sister of a would-be +murderer. If--if I came to you now, I should come in shame--Ah, +Geoffrey, don't--shame me!" + +"God forbid!" he muttered. + +Close, close she clasped him, hiding her face against him, kissing and +kissing the rough cloth of his coat. + +"Oh, Geoffrey," she murmured, "how we do love each other!" + +"So much, Hermione, that I will never--claim you until you are ready to +come to me of your own will. But, dear, I am only a man--how long must I +wait?" + +"Give me time," she pleaded, "with time the horror may grow less. Let me +go away for awhile--a little while. Let me find Arthur--" + +"No," he answered, frowning, "you shan't do that; there will be no +need--to-morrow I go to fetch him." + +"To bring him--here?" + +"Why, of course. You see, I intend him to go to college." + +Hermione rose and coming to the entrance of the arbour leaned there. + +"Why, Hermione--dear love--you're crying! What is it?" + +"Nothing," she answered, bowing her face upon her arm, "only--I +think--if you ask me again--I can't--keep you--waiting--very long!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +OF A PACKET OF LETTERS + + +M'Ginnis jerked aside the roll-top desk and falling on his knees before +a small but massive safe built into the wall behind, set the combination +and swung open the heavy door, talking to his companion as he did so and +quite unconscious of the pale face that watched him through the dingy +window. + +"That dam' Soapy's gettin' ugly," he was saying, "an' it don't do t' +get ugly with me, Heine, boy! Soapy thinks he's smart Alec all right, +but I guess I'm some smarter. Why, I got evidence enough in here t' +'lectrocute a dozen Soapys." + +"So?" said Heine, chewing on his cigar and peering into the safe. "Say, +what's all them tied up in sassy blue ribbon, Bud?" + +"These?" said M'Ginnis, and he took out a bundle of letters, turning +them over in his big hands. + +"Skirt--hey, Bud?" + +"Sure thing!" he nodded, and as he stared down at this packet, how +should he know how tense and rigid had become the lounging form in the +darkness beyond the window, or guess of the wide glare of watchful eyes +or of the sudden quiver of a smouldering cigarette? + +"Yes, a girl's letters, Heine! An' a hell of a lot of 'em. I dunno why I +keep 'em, but--oh, hell!" So saying he tossed the letters back again and +turned to his companion. "Hand over that dope!" he commanded, and Heine +passed over a bundle of papers which M'Ginnis carefully slipped into a +certain compartment. As he did so, Heine spun around upon his heel. + +"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you shook me that time, Soapy! Where've you +blown in from--" + +"An' what th' hell are you nosin' around here for, anyway?" snarled +M'Ginnis, shutting the heavy safe with a fierce slam; "since you've +come in you can get out again--right now!" + +Soapy seated himself upon a corner of the desk and placidly breathed out +two spirals of cigarette smoke. + +"Heard about Hermy bein' married, Bud?" he enquired. + +"Married? You're a liar! Hermy married? It's not so!" + +"'S right!" nodded Soapy. "She's married th' millionaire guy as got +shot--you know--got shot in that wood--you'll remember, Bud!" + +M'Ginnis sank into a chair and fell to biting his nails, staring blindly +before him. + +"Is--this--straight goods?" he enquired thickly, without altering his +gaze. + +"Sure! Y' see, she nursed him through his sickness, Bud--kind of did the +piller-smoothin' an' brow-strokin' act. Oh, I guess she comforted him +quite some." + +M'Ginnis stared before him, worrying his nails with sharp white teeth. + +"Ravenslee's a well man again, I hear, an' they're honeymoonin' at his +place on the Hudson--devotion ain't the word, Bud! 'S funny," said +Soapy, "but th' bullet as downed this guy drove Hermy into his arms. +'S funny, ain't it, Bud?" + +With a hoarse, inarticulate cry that was scarcely human, M'Ginnis sprang +from his chair, his quivering fists up-flung. For a moment he stood +thus, striving vainly for utterance, then wrenched loose his +neckerchief, while Soapy methodically lighted a new cigarette from the +butt of its predecessor. + +"Easy, Bud, easy!" he remonstrated gently, when M'Ginnis's torrent of +frenzied threats and curses had died down somewhat. "If you go on that +way, you'll go off--in a fit or something an' I shouldn't like t' see +ye die--that way!" + +"Up the river, is he?" panted M'Ginnis. + +"'S right, Bud, up the river in his big house--with her. I--" + +"Is he, by--" + +"A dandy place f' honeymoonin', Bud!" + +"Loan me your gun, Soapy. I'll get him, by God! if I have t' shoot him +in her arms--loan me y'r gun!" + +"I guess not, Bud, no, I guess not. I'd feel kind o' lonesome without +th' feel of it. Ask Heine; he'll loan you his; it's gettin' t' be quite +a habit with him, ain't it, Heine?" + +M'Ginnis sat awhile glaring down at his clutching right hand, then he +rose, opened his desk, and took thence a heavy revolver, and slipped it +inside his coat. + +"You're comin' with me, Heine," said he, "I'll want you." + +"Sure thing, Bud," nodded Heine, chewing his cigar. "But what about +lettin' Soapy tag along too." + +"Soapy," said M'Ginnis, striding to the door, "Soapy can go t' hell +right now." + +"Why then, Bud," drawled Soapy, "I'll sure meet you--later. S'long." + +Left alone, Soapy's languor gave place to swift action. In two strides, +it seemed, he was in the saloon, had beckoned the quick-eyed bartender +aside and put the question: "Where's the Kid, Jake?" + +The bartender lifted an eyebrow and jerked a thumb upward. + +"Shut-eye," he nodded, and turned back to his multifarious duties. + +Up a narrow stair sped Soapy and, opening one of the numerous doors, +crossed to a truckle bed wherefrom a tousled head upreared itself. + +"Who th'--" + +"Say, Kid, are ye drunk or only asleep?" + +"What yer want, Soapy? You lemme be--what yer want?" began Spike +drowsily. + +"Nothin' much, Kid, only Bud an' Heine's gone t' shoot up y'r sister's +husband." + +"Husband!" cried Spike, drowsy no longer. "Husband--say, d' ye mean +Geoff?" + +"That's who, Kid. You was crackin' on t' me about wantin' t' make good; +well, here's y'r chance. Bud aims t' get there 'bout midnight--up th' +river, you know--so you got two hours. You'll have t' go some t' get in +first, but I guess you can do it." + +"I will if it kills me!" cried Spike, springing toward the door. + +"Hold on, Kid, you'll need some mazuma, maybe. Here's a ten-spot. It'll +be more useful t' you than me after t'night, I reckon. So get your +hooks on to it, an' now--beat it!" + +Without more words Spike snatched the money, crammed it into his pocket +and, running down the stairs, was gone. + +Then, after having lighted another cigarette, Soapy descended to +M'Ginnis's dingy office, where having dragged away the desk, he brought +a chair and sat with his ear against the safe, turning the combination +lock with long, delicate fingers. To and fro he turned it, very +patiently hearkening to the soft clicks the mechanism gave forth while +the cigarette smouldered between his pallid lips. Soapy, among other +accomplishments, was a yeggman renowned in the profession, and very soon +the heavy door swung softly back, and Soapy became lost in study. Money +there was and valuables of many kinds, and these he didn't trouble with, +but to the papers he gave a scrupulous attention; sometimes as he read +his white eyelids fluttered somewhat, and sometimes the dangling +cigarette quivered. Presently he arose and bore these many papers to the +sheet iron upon which stood the rusty stove; here he piled them and set +them alight and stood watching until they were reduced to a heap of +charred ash. Then, returning to the safe, he took out a bundle of +letters tied up in a faded blue ribbon, and seating himself at +M'Ginnis's desk, he slipped off the ribbon and very methodically began +to read these letters one after the other. + +But as he read the humble entreaties, the passionate pleading of those +written words, blotted and smeared with the bitter tears of a woman's +poignant shame and anguish, Soapy's pendent cigarette fell to the floor +and lay there smouldering and forgotten, and his lips were drawn back +from sharp, white teeth--pallid lips contorted in a grin the more awful +because of the great drops that welled from the fierce, half-closed +eyes. Every letter he read and every word, then very methodically set +them back within the faded blue ribbon and sat staring down at them with +eyes wider open than usual--eyes that saw back into the past. And as he +sat thus, staring at what had been, he repeated a sentence to himself +over and over again at regular intervals, speaking with a soft +inflection none had ever heard from him before: + +"Poor little Maggie--poor little kid!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +TELLS HOW RAVENSLEE BROKE HIS WORD AND WHY + + +"Past eleven o'clock, dear," said Hermione. + +"Still so early?" sighed Ravenslee. + +They were sitting alone in the fire glow, so near that by moving his +hand he could touch her where she sat curled up in the great armchair; +but he did not reach out his hand because they were alone and in the +fire glow, and Hermione had never seemed quite so alluring. + +"How cosy a fire is--and how unnecessary!" she sighed contentedly. + +"I'm English enough to love a fire, especially when it is unnecessary," +he answered. + +"English, dear?" + +"My mother was English; that's why I was educated in England." + +"Your mother! How she must have loved you!" + +"I suppose she did; but, you see, she died when I was a baby." + +"Poor lonely mite!" Here her hand came out impulsively to caress his +coat sleeve and to be prisoned there by two other hands, to be lifted +and pressed to burning lips, whereat she grew all rosy in the fire glow. + +"I suppose," said he, the words coming a little unevenly, "it would be +too much to ask my wife to--come a little--nearer?" + +"Nearer? Why, Geoffrey, dear, our chairs are touching now." + +"Our chairs? Why, yes--so they are! I suppose," sighed he, "I suppose it +would be breaking my word to my wife if I happened to--kiss my wife?" + +"Why, Geoffrey--of course it would!" + +"Yes, I feared so!" he nodded and kissed her hand instead, and there +fell a silence. + +"How heavenly it is!" she whispered softly, leaning a little nearer to +him. + +"Heavenly!" he answered, leaning a little nearer to her and watching the +droop of her lashes. + +"So--so quiet and--peaceful!" she added, drawing away again, conscious +of his look. + +"Horribly!" he sighed. + +"Geoffrey!" + +"Quiet and peace," he explained, "may hold such an infinitude of +possibilities impossible of realisation to a husband who is bound by +promises, that it is apt to be a little--trying." + +Hermione didn't speak but drew his hand to be caressed by the soft oval +of a cheek and touched by the velvet of shy lips. + +"And yet," he went on, staring resolutely at the fire, "I wouldn't +change--this, for anything else the world could offer me!" + +"Bear with me--a little longer, dear!" she murmured. + +"As long as you will, Hermione--providing--" + +"Well, my Geoffrey, dear?" + +"That it is only--a little longer." + +"You don't think I'm very--silly, do you, dear?" she enquired, staring +into the fire. + +"No, not very!" + +"Oh!" she said softly, glancing at him reproachfully. "You don't think +me--cruel?" + +"Not very," he answered, kissing her hand again. + +"Dear Geoffrey, you don't think I'm very selfish, do you?" she +questioned wistfully. + +"No--never that!" he answered, keeping his gaze averted. + +"Because if--" + +"If?" said he. + +"If it is hard for you--" the soft voice faltered. + +"Yes, Hermione?" + +"If you really think I'm--cruel and--silly, you--needn't wait--any +longer--if you wish--" + +His arms were about her, drawing her near, clasping her ever closer, +and she held him away no more, but--beholding her wistful eyes, the +plaintive droop of her vivid mouth, and all the voiceless pleading of +her, he loosed her and turned away. + +"I love you so much--Hermione, so much, that your will shall be my +will." + +She rose, and leaning against the carved mantel stared down into the +fire; when at last she spoke, there was a note in her voice he had never +heard before, + +"Geoffrey, dear, this world is a very bad world for a lonely girl, and +sometimes a very hateful world, and I have been lonely nearly all my +life--and I didn't think there were such men as you; I didn't think any +man could love so unselfishly. All my life I shall--treasure the +recollection of this hour--yes, always! always!" + +Then she turned and, ere he knew, was on her knees before him, had +twined soft arms about his neck, and was looking up at him through +shining tears. + +"Yes, I'm--crying a little! I don't do it often, dear--tears don't +easily come with me. But now I'm crying because--oh, because I'm so +proud--so proud to have won such a wonderful love. Good night--good +night! Oh, break your word for once--kiss me, my husband!" + +So while she knelt to him thus, he kissed her until she sighed and +stirred in his embrace. Then she rose and hand in hand they crossed the +room and he opened the door; for a blissful moment they stood there +silent in the shadows, but when he would have kissed her again she +laughed at him through her tears and fled from him up the wide stairway. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +HOW SPIKE GOT EVEN + + +A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Ravenslee sat on long +after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk on broad chest, his +eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in profound but joyful +meditation; once he turned to look where she had stood beside the +mantel, and once he reached out to touch the thrice-blessed chair that +had held her. + +The curtains stirred and rustled at the open window behind him, but he +sat looking into the flickering fire, seeing there pictures of the +future, and the future was full of a happiness beyond words, for in +every picture Hermione moved. + +All at once he started and glanced swiftly around, his lounging attitude +changing to one of watchful alertness, for he had heard a sound that +drew rapidly nearer--the hiss and pant of breath drawn in quick gasps. +Silently he arose and turned to see the curtains swing apart and a +shapeless something stagger forward and fall heavily. Then he reached +out to the switch beside the hearth, and the room was flooded with +brilliant light; the figure kneeling just inside the swaying curtains +uttered a strangled cry and threw up a hand before his face, a hand dark +with spattering blood. + +"Oh, Geoff--oh, Geoff!" panted Spike, "I ain't--come thievin' this +time--honest t' God, I ain't!" + +"Why, you're hurt--what's the matter?" + +"They see me down th' road as I came an' shot me, but this ain't +nothin'. Out th' lights, Geoff--out 'em--quick!" + +But Ravenslee had crossed the room, had seized the lad's arm, and was +examining the ugly graze that bled so freely. + +"That ain't nothin'--douse th' lights, Geoff--out 'em quick. Bud's +coming here close behind--Bud an' Heine--they mean t' plug you--oh, put +out th' lights--" + +Instinctively Ravenslee turned, but even as he did so Spike uttered a +hoarse cry. + +"No, ye don't, Bud--not this time, by God!" and sprang upon the form +that towered between the curtains; came the sound of fierce scuffling, a +deafening report, and running forward, Ravenslee caught Spike as he +staggered back; heard a rush and trample of feet along the terrace, the +sound of blows and fierce curses behind the swaying curtains, heard the +Spider's fierce shout and Joe's deep roar, two more shots in rapid +succession, and the swift patter of feet in flight and pursuit. + +"How is it, Spike? Are you hurt, old chap?" + +But Spike just then was beyond words, so Ravenslee bore the swooning boy +to a settee, and laying him there, began to search hastily for the +wound. + +But now the door was flung wide and Hermione was beside him. + +"Geoffrey--oh, my love! Have they hurt you?" + +"No, dear--thanks to Spike, here!" + +"Arthur! Oh, thank God--did he--?" + +"Took the bullet meant for me, Hermione. I owe your brother my life!" + +She was down on her knees and very soon her skilful fingers had laid +bare the ugly wound in the lad's white arm. But now came Mrs. Trapes, +looking taller and bonier than ever in a long, very woolly garment, and +while she aided Hermione to bandage the wound, Ravenslee brought water +and brandy, and very soon Spike sighed and opened his eyes. + +"Hello, Hermy!" he said faintly. "Don't worry, I'm all O. K. Bud shot +me an' I'm glad, because now I can ask you t' forgive me. Y' see, he'd +have got old Geoff sure if it hadn't been for me, so you--you will +forgive me, won't you?" + +For answer Hermione bent and kissed his pallid cheek. + +"I'll go and 'phone for the doctor," said Ravenslee. + +"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, "I done ten minutes ago, Mr. Geoffrey. +Doctor'll be right along." + +Ravenslee turned to Spike. + +"How are you now, old fellow?" + +"Only a bit sick, like. But say, Geoff--I know I played it low down on +you, but--will you--shake an' try t' forget?" + +Ravenslee took and held the boy's outstretched hand. + +"I think we're going to be better friends than ever, Spike!" + +"Good!" said Spike, smiling wearily, "but say, Geoff--dear old Geoff--if +I got t' die I don't mind--because I guess this makes us quits at +last--don't it, Geoff?" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +RETRIBUTION + + +Half-stunned by a blow from Joe's mighty fist, M'Ginnis saw Heine +felled by Spider, who, having promptly and scientifically kicked him +unconscious, snatched the revolver from his lax fingers and turned to +pursue. As he came M'Ginnis fired rapidly but, dazed by the blow, his +aim was wild, so he turned and ran, with the Spider in hot pursuit. The +moon was down, and it was very dark, and soon M'Ginnis found himself in +the denser gloom of trees. On he ran, twisting and doubling, on and on, +until spent and breathless, he paused to hearken. Far away, voices +shouted to each other, voices that gradually grew more distant; so, +finally having caught his breath, M'Ginnis went on again. But the wood +was full of noises--strange rustling and sudden, soft night sounds--and +at every sound the fugitive paused to listen, finger on trigger. And +ever as he went the wild blood throbbed and pulsed within his brain, +sounding now like the pad-pad of pursuing feet that would not be shaken +off, and again like a voice that mumbled and muttered querulous words in +the air about him, and at such times he glanced around upon the dark, +but the words would not be stilled: + +"She's married--married--married! You drove her into his arms--you +did--you did--you did! And he's alive still and with her, +alive--alive--alive!" + +And sometimes as he stumbled along through that place of gloom, he +cursed bitterly beneath his breath, and sometimes he ground sweating +jaws since needs must he hearken to that taunting devil-voice: + +"Alive and with his wife beside him--alive! And yours the +fault--yours--yours! Your shot at Spike so near the house lost you the +game--lost--lost! Your shot at Spike was a call for help--saved the life +of the man you came to kill! Your shot at Spike lost you the +game--lost--lost!" + +So, followed by the pad-pad of running feet, haunted by the querulous +demon-voice, M'Ginnis stumbled out upon the road--a lonely road at most +times but quite desolate at this hour. The fugitive hastened along, +dogged by sounds that none but he might hear, yet to him these sounds +were dreadfully real, so real that once, goaded to a paroxysm of blind +fury, he whirled about and fired wildly--a shot that seemed to split +asunder the deep night silence, filling it with a thousand echoes. Once +more he turned and ran, ran until his breath laboured painfully and the +sweat ran from him, but ever the sounds were close about him. + +At last he beheld lights that moved, and reaching a way-side halt, +clambered aboard a late trolley and crouched as far from the light as +possible. But even so, his disordered dress, his pallor, and the wild +glare of his eyes drew the idle glances of the few passengers. + +"Looks like you'd been through th' mill, bo!" said one, a great, rough +fellow; but meeting M'Ginnis's answering glare, he quailed and shrank +away. + +Dawn was at hand when at last he reached O'Rourke's saloon and, letting +himself in, strode into the bar. The place was deserted at this hour, +but from a room hard by came the sound of voices, hoarse laughter, and +the rattle of chips that told a poker game was still in progress. + +Scowling, M'Ginnis stood awhile to listen. Then, lifting the flap of the +bar, he passed through the narrow door beyond, along the passage and so +to that dingy office, from the open door of which a light streamed. + +Scowling still, M'Ginnis strode in, then stood suddenly still, lifted +his right hand toward his breast, then paused as Soapy, turning about in +the swing chair, took a heavy, ivory-handled revolver from where it had +lain on the desk beside a packet of letters tied up in a faded blue +ribbon. + +"Lock th' door, Bud, lock th' door!" said he softly. "So!" he nodded, +as M'Ginnis obeyed. "'N' say, Bud, take that hand away from y'r gun +an'--keep it away--see?" And the lamplight glittered on the long barrel +that rested on Soapy's knee. + +"So--this is th' game--hey?" demanded M'Ginnis hoarsely, his bloodshot +eyes fixed on Soapy unwinkingly. + +"'S right, Bud. Y' see, I been takin' a peek int' that little tin safe +o' yours--say, it looks like you'd had a bit of a rough house, Bud!" + +Soapy's cigarette quivered and was still again, while M'Ginnis watched +him, breathing thickly but speaking no word, and Soapy went on again: + +"I been takin' a peek into that little tin safe o' yours, an' I found +some papers you'd been kind o' treasurin' up about me, so I burnt 'em, +Bud--not as they mattered very much, there ain't nobody t' worry when +I snuff it--but I found as you'd got other papers about other guys as +would matter some t' them, I guess--so I burnt 'em too, Bud." + +"Burnt 'em!" cried M'Ginnis in a strangled voice, "burnt 'em--you--" + +"It ain't no use t' get riled, Bud; I burnt 'em--there's th' ashes!" + +M'Ginnis glanced at the heap of ash by the stove and burst into a frenzy +of curses and fierce invective, while Soapy, lounging back in the chair, +watched him unmoved until he had done, then he spoke again: + +"Also I found--letters, Bud, a packet tied up in blue ribbon--an', Bud, +they matter a whole lot. Here they are--look at 'em!" + +For a moment Soapy's baleful eye turned aside to the desk as he reached +for the letters, and in that moment M'Ginnis's pistol spoke, and Soapy, +lurching sideways, sagged to his knees, his back against the desk. Again +and again M'Ginnis's weapon clicked, but no report followed, and Soapy +slowly dragged himself to his feet. His cigarette fell and lay +smouldering, and for a moment he stared at it; then he laughed softly +and glanced at M'Ginnis. + +"You fool, Bud, you dog-gone fool! Forgot t' load up y'r gun, eh? But I +guess you got me all right, anyway--you're shootin' better t'night than +you did in the wood that time--eh, Bud? Now I want t' tell you--" He was +choked suddenly with a ghastly coughing, and when he spoke again, his +voice was fainter, and he held a smartly-bordered handkerchief to his +mouth. + +"They say God made this world, Bud--if He did, I guess He was asleep +when you was made, Bud--anyway, remembering little Maggie, you ain't got +no right to breathe any longer--so that's for me--an' that's for her!" + +Lounging still, he fired twice from the hip and M'Ginnis, twisting upon +his heels, fell and lay with his face at his slayer's feet. Then, spying +the packet of letters that lay upon the grimy floor, Soapy stooped +painfully and fired rapidly four times; when the smoke cleared, of those +tear-blotted pages with their secret of a woman's anguish, there +remained nothing but a charred piece of ribbon and a few smouldering +fragments of paper. And now Soapy was seized with another fit of +coughing, above which he heard hoarse shouts and hands that thundered +at the door. Lazily he stood upon his feet, turned to glance from that +scorched ribbon to the still form upon the floor and, lifting a lazy +foot, ground his heel into that still face, then, crossing unsteadily to +the door, unlocked it. Beyond was a crowd, very silent now, who drew +back to give him way, but Soapy paused in the doorway and leaned there a +moment. + +"What's doin'?" cried a voice. + +"Say, run f'r a doctor, somebody--quick--Soapy's hurt bad, I reckon--" + +"Hurt?" said Soapy, in soft, lazy tones. "'S right! But--say--fellers, +there's a son of a dog in there--waitin' f'r a spade--t' bury him!" Then +Soapy laughed, choked, and groping before him blindly, staggered +forward, and pitching sideways, fell with his head beneath a table and +died there. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +OF THE OLD UN AND FATE + + +Spike leaned back among his cushions and, glancing away across +close-cropped lawns and shady walks, sighed luxuriously. + +"Say, Ann," he remarked. "Gee whiz, Trapesy, there sure ain't no flies +on this place of old Geoff's!" + +"Flies," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her household accounts, "you +go into the kitchen an' look around." + +"I mean it's aces up." + +"Up where?" queried Mrs. Trapes. + +"Well, it's a regular Jim-dandy cracker-jack--some swell clump, eh?" + +"Arthur, that low, tough talk don't go with me," said Mrs. Trapes, and +resumed her intricate calculations again. + +"Say, when'll Geoff an' Hermy be back?" + +"Well, considerin' she's gone to N' York t' buy more clo'es as she don't +need, an' considerin' Mr. Ravenslee's gone with her, I don't know." + +"An' what you do know don't cut no ice. Anyway, I'm gettin' lonesome." + +"What, ain't I here?" demanded Mrs. Trapes sharply. + +"Sure. I can't lose you!" + +"Oh! Now I'll tell you what it is, my good b'y--" + +"Cheese it, Trapes, you make me tired, that's what." + +"If you sass me, I'll box your young ears--an' that's what!" + +"I don't think!" added Spike. "Nobody ain't goin' t' box me. I'm a sure +enough invalid, and don't you forget it." + +"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "a bit of a hole in his arm, that's +all." + +"Well, I wish you got it, 'stead o' me--it smarts like sixty!" + +"Shows it's healin'. Doctor said as it'll be well in a week." + +"Doctor!" sniffed Spike, "he don't know what I suffer. I may be dyin' +for all he knows." + +"You are!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, with a gloomy nod. + +"Eh--what?" exclaimed Spike, sitting up. + +"So am I--we all are--by the minute. Every night we're a day's march +nearer home! So now jest set right there an' go on dyin', my b'y!" + +"Say, now, cut it out," said Spike, wriggling. "That ain't no kind o' +way t' cheer an invalid." + +"It's th' truth." + +"Well, it don't cheer me more, so let's have a lie for a change." + +Mrs. Trapes snorted and fell to adding and subtracting busily. + +"Say, Ann," said he after awhile, "if you got any more o' that punkin +pie I could do some right now. I'm hungry." + +"It ain't eatin' time yet." + +"But--Gee! ain't I a invalid?" + +"Sure! Consequently you must be fed slow an' cautious." + +"Oh, fudge! What's th' good of a guy bein' a invalid if a guy can't feed +when he wants to?" + +"What's a hundred an' ninety-one from twenty-three?" enquired Mrs. +Trapes. + +"Skidoo!" murmured Spike sulkily. But after Mrs. Trapes had subtracted +and added busily he spoke again. + +"You ain't such a bad old gink--sometimes," he conceded. + +"Gink?" said Mrs. Trapes, glaring. + +"I mean you can be a real daisy when you want to." + +"Can I?" + +"Sure! Sometimes you can be so kind an' nice I like you a whole lot!" + +"Is that so?" + +"You bet it is--honest Injun." + +"Arthur, if it's that pie you want--" + +"It ain't!" + +"Well, what is it?" + +"How d' ye know I want anything?" + +"Oh, I just guess, maybe." + +"Well, say--if you could cop me one o' Geoff's cigarettes--one o' them +with gold letterin' onto 'em--" + +"You mean--thieve you one!" + +"Why, no, a cigarette ain't thievin'. Say, now, dear old Trapesy, I'm +jest dyin' for a gasper!" + +"Well, you go on dyin', an' I'll set right here an' watch how you do +it." + +"If I was t' die you'd be sorry for this, I reckon." + +"Anyway, I'd plant some flowers on you, my lad, an' keep your lonely +grave nice--" + +"Huh!" sniffed Spike, "a lot o' good that 'ud do me when I was busy +pushin' up th' daisies. It's what I want now that matters." + +"An' what you want now, Arthur, is a rod of iron--good 'n' heavy. +Discipline's your cryin' need, an' you're sure goin' t' get it." + +"Oh? Where?" + +"At college! My land, think of you at Yale or Harvard or C'lumbia--" + +"Sure you can think; thinkin' can't cut no ice." + +"Anyway, you're goin' soon as you're fit; Mr. Geoffrey says so." + +"Oh, Geoff's batty--he's talkin' in his sleep. I ain't goin' t' no +college--Geoff's got sappy in th' bean--" + +"Well, you tell him so." + +"Sure thing--you watch me!" + +"No, I'll get you somethin' t' eat--some milk an'--" + +"Say, what about that punkin pie?" + +"You sit right there an' wait." + +"Chin-Chin!" nodded Spike, and watched her into the house. + +No sooner was he alone than he was out of his chair and, descending the +steps into the garden, sped gleefully away across lawns and along +winding paths, following a haphazard course. But, as he wandered thus, +he came to the stables and so to a large building beyond, where were +many automobiles of various patterns and make; and here, very busy +with brushes, sponge, and water, washing a certain car and making a +prodigious splashing, was a figure there was no mistaking, and one whom +Spike hailed in joyous surprise. + +"Well, well, if it ain't th' old Spider! Gee, but I'm glad t' see you! +Say, old sport, I'm a invalid--pipe my bandages, will ye?" + +"Huh!" grunted the Spider, without glancing up from the wheel he was +washing. + +"Say, old lad," continued Spike, "I guess they told you how I put it all +over Bud, eh?" + +"Mph!" said the Spider, slopping the water about. + +"Heard how I saved old Geoff from gettin' snuffed out, didn't yer?" + +"Huh-umph!" growled the Spider. + +"That's sure some car, eh? Gee, but it's good t' see you again, anyway. +How'd you come here, Spider?" + +"U-huh!" said the Spider. + +"Say," exclaimed Spike, "quit makin' them noises an' say somethin', +can't yer? If you can't talk t' a pal, I'm goin'." + +"Right-o, Kid!" said the Spider; "only see as you don't go sheddin' no +more buttons around." + +"B-buttons!" stammered Spike. "What yer mean? What buttons?" + +The Old Un, who happened to have been dozing in the limousine that stood +in a shady corner, sat up suddenly and blinked. + +"Why, I mean," answered the Spider, wringing water from the sponge he +held and speaking very deliberately, "I mean the button as you--left +behind you--in th' wood!" + +Spike gasped and sat down weakly upon the running-board of a car, and +the Old Un stole a furtive peep at him. + +"So you--know--?" + +"Sure I know--more 'n I want t' know about you, so--chase yourself out +o' here--beat it!" + +Spike stared in mute amazement, then flushed painfully. + +"You mean--you an' me--ain't goin' t' be pals no longer?" he asked +wistfully. + +"That's what!" nodded the Spider, without lifting his scowling gaze from +the sponge. "Kid, I ain't no Gold-medal Sunday-school scholar nor I +ain't never won no prizes at any Purity League conference, but there's +some guys too rotten even f'r me!" + +"But I--I--saved his life, didn't I?" + +"That ain't nothin' t' blow about after what you did in that wood. Oh, +wake up an' see just how dirty an' rotten you are!" + +Spike rose and stood, his hands tight-clenched, and though he tried to +frown, he couldn't hide the pitiful twitching of his lips nor the quaver +in his voice. + +"I guess you mean you're goin' t' give me th' throw-down?" + +"Well," answered the Spider, scowling at the sponge in his hand, +"there's jest two or three things as I ain't got no use for, an' one +of 'em's--murder!" + +Hereupon Spike shrank away, and the Old Un, reaching out stealthily, +opened the door of the limousine while the Spider fell to work again, +splashing more than ever. Thus as Spike crept away with head a-droop, +the Old Un, all unnoticed, stole after him, his old eyes very bright and +birdlike, and, as he followed, keeping in the shade of hedge and tree as +much as possible, he whispered a word to himself over and over again: + +"Lorgorramighty!" + +But Spike went on with dragging feet, ignorant that any one followed, +lost in a sudden sense of shame such as he had never known before--a +shame that was an agony: for though his bodily eyes were blinded with +bitter tears, the eyes of his mind were opened wide at last, and he saw +himself foul and dirty, even as the Spider had said. So on stumbling +feet Spike reached a shady, grassy corner remote from all chance of +observation and, throwing himself down there, he lay with his face +hidden, wetting the grass with the tears of his abasement. + +When at last he raised his head, he beheld a little old man leaning +patiently against a tree near by and watching him with a pair of baleful +eyes. + +"Hello!" said Spike wearily. "Who are you?" + +"I'm Fate, I am!" nodded the Old Un. "Persooin' Fate, that's me." + +"What yer here for, anyway?" enquired the lad, humble in his abasement. + +"I'm here to persoo!" + +"Say, now, what's your game; what yer want?" + +"I want you, me lad." + +"Well, say--beat it, please--I want t' be alone." + +"Not much, me lad. I'm Fate, I am, an' when Fate comes up agin murder, +Fate ain't t' be shook off." + +"Murder!" gasped Spike. "Oh, my God! I--I ain't--" + +The lad sprang to his feet and was running on the instant, but turning +to glance back, tripped over some obstacle and fell. Swaying he rose and +stumbled on, but slower now by reason of the pain in his wounded arm. +Thus, when at last he came out upon the road, the Old Un was still close +behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +IN WHICH GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE OBTAINS HIS OBJECT + + +Mrs. Trapes glanced sadly around her cosy housekeeper's room and sighed +regretfully; she was alone, and upon the table ready to hand lay her +neat bonnet, her umbrella, and a pair of white cotton gloves, beholding +which articles her lips set more resolutely, her bony arms folded +themselves more tightly, and she nodded in grim determination. + +"The labourer is worthy of his hire!" she sighed, apparently addressing +the bonnet, "but, if so be the labourer ain't worthy, why then, the +sooner he quits--" + +A sound of quick, light feet upon the stair and a voice that laughed +gaily, a laugh so full of happiness that even Mrs. Trapes's iron +features relaxed, and her grim mouth curved in her rare smile. At that +moment the door opened and Hermione appeared, a radiant Hermione who +clasped Mrs. Trapes in her arms and tangled her up in her long motor +veil and laughed again. + +"Oh, Ann, such a day!" she exclaimed, laying aside her long dust-coat. +"New York is a paradise--when you're rich! No more bargain days and +clawing matches over the remnant counter, Ann! Oh, it's wonderful to be +able to buy anything I want--anything! Think of it, Ann, isn't it just +a dream of joy? And I've shopped and shopped, and he was so dear and +patient! I bought Arthur a complete outfit--" + +"Arthur!" said Mrs. Trapes, and groaned. + +"And you, Ann, you dear thing, I bought you--guess what? But you never +could! I bought you a gold watch, the very best I could find, and he +bought you a chain for it, a long one to go around your dear neck, set +with diamonds and rubies, I mean the chain is--it's the cutest thing, +Ann! You remember you used to dream of a gold chain set with real +diamonds, some day? Well, 'some day's' to-day, Ann." + +"But--oh, Hermy, I--I--" + +"He wants to give it you himself, because he says you're the best friend +he ever had and--oh, here he is! You did say so, didn't you, Geoffrey?" + +"And I surely mean it!" answered Ravenslee, tossing his driving +gauntlets into a chair, "though you certainly threw cold water upon my +peanut barrow, didn't you, Mrs. Trapes?" + +"Oh, Geoffrey, dear, do give her that precious package; I'm dying to see +her open it!" + +So Ravenslee drew the jeweller's neat parcel from his pocket and put +it into Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand. For a moment her bony fingers +clutched it, then she sighed tremulously and, placing it on the table, +rose and stood staring down at it. When at last she spoke, her voice was +harsher than usual. + +"Hermy, dear--I mean Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, I--can't--take 'em!" + +"But, dear--why not?" + +"Because they're coals o' fire." + +"But you must take them, dear; we bought them for you and--" + +"Which jools, ma'am, I can in no wise accept." + +"Why, Ann, dear, whatever--" + +"Which jools, ma'am, having been a dream, must for me so remain, me not +bein' faithful in my dooties to you an' Mr. Geoffrey. Consequently I +begs to tender you now my resignation, yieldin' up my post in your +service to one better worthy, and returnin' t' th' place wherefrom I +come." + +Here Mrs. Trapes put on her bonnet, setting it a little askew in her +agitation. + +"Th' labourer is worthy of his hire, but if he ain't--so be it!" + +Here Mrs. Trapes tied her bonnet strings so tightly and with such +resolute hands that she choked. + +"Why, Ann dear," cried Hermione, "whatever do you mean? As if I could +bear to part with you!" Here she untied the bonnet strings. "As if I +could ever let you go back to Mulligan's!" Here she took off the bonnet. +"As if I could ever forget all your tender love and care for me in the +days when things were so hard and so very dark!" Here she tossed the +bonnet into a corner. + +"My land!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, "me best bonnet--" + +"I know, Ann. I made it for you over a year ago, and it's time you had +another, anyway! Now, open that parcel--this minute!" + +But instead of doing so, Mrs. Trapes sank down in the chair beside the +table and bowed her head in her hands. + +"Hermy," said she, "oh, my lamb, he's gone! You left Arthur in my care +an'--he's gone, an' it's my fault. Went away at five o'clock, an' here +it is nigh on to ten--an' him sick! God knows I've searched for +him--tramped to th' ferry an' back, an' th' footmen they've looked for +him an' so have th' maids--but Arthur's gone--an' it's my fault! So, +Hermy--my dear--blame me an' let me go--" + +The harsh voice broke and, bowing her head, she sat silent, touching the +unopened packet of jewellery with one long, bony finger. + +"Why, Ann--dear Ann--you're crying!" Hermione was down on her knees, +had clasped that long bony figure in her arms. "You mustn't, Ann, you +mustn't. I'm sure it wasn't your fault, so don't grieve, dear--there!" +And she had drawn the disconsolate grey head down upon her shoulder and +pillowed it there. + +"But--oh, Hermy, he's gone! An' you told me to--look after him." + +"Ann, if Arthur meant to go, I'm sure you couldn't have prevented him; +he isn't a child any longer, dear. There, be comforted--we'll hunt for +him in the car--won't we, Geoffrey?" + +"Of course," nodded Ravenslee, "I'll 'phone the garage right away." + +But as he opened the door he came face to face with Joe, who touched an +eyebrow and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. + +"S'cuse me, sir," said he, "but it's that Old Un, covered wi' dust 'e +is, sir, an' wants a word wi' you. And, sir, 'e 's that mysterious as +never was. Shall I let him come in, sir?" + +"You try an' keep me out, my lad, that's all!" panted the Old Un, +ducking under Joe's great arm, "I'm better man nor ever you'll be!" + +So saying, the Old Un hobbled forward and, sinking into the nearest +armchair, fanned himself with his hat, which, like the rest of his +garments, bore the dust of travel. + +"Greetin's, Guv!" said he, when he had caught his breath. "'Ere I be--a +old man as 'as done more for ye than all th' young 'uns put t'gether. +Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, best respex!" + +"And what have you been doing now?" enquired Ravenslee, smiling. + +"Well, Guv, I been an' got th' murderer for ye, that's all!" + +Hermione caught her breath suddenly and gazed at the fierce, dusty old +man with eyes full of growing terror; beholding which Ravenslee frowned, +then laughed lightly and, seating himself on a corner of the table, +swung his leg to and fro. + +"So you've found him out, have you, Old Un?" + +"Ah, that I have!" + +"Are you sure?" + +"Ah, quite sure, Guv." + +"Well, where is he--trot him out." + +"'E's comin' along--th' Spider's bringin' un. Ye see, he's a bit wore +out same as I am--we been trampin' all th' arternoon. Look at me shoes, +that's th' worst o' patent leather--they shows th' dust. Joe, my lad, +jest give 'em a flick over with ye wipe." + +But at this moment steps were heard slowly approaching, and Hermione +uttered an inarticulate cry, then spoke in an agonised whisper: +"Arthur!" + +Pallid of cheek and drooping of head Spike stood in the doorway, his +shabby, threadbare clothes dusty and travel-stained, his slender shape +encircled by the Spider's long arm. At Hermione's cry he lifted his head +and looked up yearningly, his sensitive mouth quivered, his long-lashed +eyes swam in sudden tears, he strove to speak but choked instead; then +Ravenslee's calm, pleasant voice broke the painful silence. + +"Old Un," said he, rising, "I understand you are fond of jam--well, from +now on you shall bathe in it if you wish." + +"Spoke like a true sport, Guv!" + +"Why, you see, you have surely done me a very great service." + +"Meanin' because I found ye th' murderer." + +"Murderer?" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring. + +"Why, yes--there 'e is!" and the old man pointed a long finger at the +shrinking Spike. + +"Old Un," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "don't joke with me--" + +"I--I ain't jokin', Guv," cried the Old Un, rising. "Why--oh, +Lorgorramighty, you don't mean t' say as this ain't 'im? Why, 'e 's +confessed, Guv; I 'eard 'im!" + +Ravenslee smiled gently and shook his head again. + +"But he has been sick, Old Un; he was hurt, you know, when he saved my +life." + +"But, Lord, Guv, if 'e 's confessed--" + +"He has been sick, Old Un, and when we are sick the wisest of us are apt +to say silly things--even I did, so they tell me." + +"What?" quavered the old man, "ain't I--ain't I found no murderer for +ye, arter all, Guv?" + +"You've done something much, very much better, Old Un--you've found me +my brother!" + +"Brother!" echoed Spike, "brother? Oh, Geoff--" he sighed deeply, and +as Ravenslee crossed toward him he smiled wanly and sank swooning into +the supporting arms of the Spider, who at a word from Hermione bore the +boy up-stairs; but scarcely was he laid upon his bed than he opened his +heavy eyes. + +"Say, Spider," said he wearily, "old Geoff sure does play square--even +to a worm like me--well, I guess! No, don't go yet, I want yer to hear +me try to explain the kind o' dirty dog I been--I guess he won't want +t' call me 'brother' after that; no, siree, he'll cut me out same as you +have an' serve me right too." Then turning toward where Ravenslee and +Hermione stood he continued: "Geoff--Hermy, dear--ah, no, don't touch +me, I ain't worth it. I'm too dirty--Spider says so--an' I guess he's +right. Listen--I meant t' go away t'day an' leave you because I felt so +mean, but th' old man followed me, an' I couldn't run because my arm +pained some--y' see, I fell on it. So I let him bring me back because I +guess it's up t' me t' let you know as I ain't fit t' be your brother, +Geoff--or Hermy's." For a moment Spike paused, then with an effort he +continued but kept his face averted. "Geoff, it was me--in the wood that +time! Yes, it was me, an' I had a gun. I--I meant--t' do you in, Geoff--" + +Spike's voice failed and he was silent again, plucking nervously at the +sheet, while Hermione's proud head drooped and her hands clasped and +wrung each other in an agony of shame; but to these painfully rigid +hands came another hand, big and strong yet very gentle, at whose +soothing touch those agonised fingers grew lax and soft, then clung +to that strong hand in sudden, eager passion. + +"Poor old Spike!" said Ravenslee, and his tone was as gentle as his +touch. + +"But--but, Geoff," stammered the boy. "I--oh, don't you see? I meant +to--kill you?" + +"Yes, I understand; you thought I deserved it--why?" + +"Oh, I was crazy, I guess! Bud told me lies--an' I believed him--lies +about you an' Hermy--he said--you'd make Hermy go--the same road--little +Maggie Finlay went--so I came t' kill you--" + +"Spike, if you believed that, if you really believed that, I don't blame +you for trying a shot--" + +"But I didn't--I couldn't! When I saw you sittin' there so unsuspectin', +I just couldn't do it--I tried to, but I couldn't. An' somehow I dropped +th' gun, an' then I heard a shot, an' when I looked up I saw you throw +out your arms an' fall--my God, I'll never forget that! Then I saw Bud +starin' down at you an' th' pistol smokin' in his hand. I meant t' do it +but I couldn't, so Bud did it himself. I'm as bad as him, I reckon, but +it was Bud shot you--Soapy saw him an' knows it was Bud--ask Soapy. An' +now I've told you all; I guess I ain't fit t' stay here any longer." + +Spike's voice choked upon a sob, he buried his face in the pillow, and +so there fell a silence--a strange, tense hush, a pause so unexpected +that he looked up and saw that Hermione's head was bowed no longer, but +she stood, very proud and tall, gazing upon her husband, and in her eyes +was a great and wondrous light; and as she looked on him so he gazed on +her. They had no thought, no eyes for Spike just then, wherefore he hid +his face again. + +"I guess this about puts the kybosh on th' brother business!" he sighed +miserably, "an' I sure ain't fit t' be th' Spider's pal, I reckon!" + +But now the Spider spoke, rather quick and jerkily: + +"Say, Kid--get onto this! I'm takin' back--everything I says t' you +t'day, see? Because, oh, well--I guess you've sure woke up at last! So, +Kid--give us your mitt!" + +Eagerly Spike grasped the Spider's big fist, and they shook hands +gravely and very deliberately, looking into each other's eyes the while. +Then, still quick and jerkily, the Spider turned and hurried out of the +room. Then Spike turned to Ravenslee. + +"Geoff," he sighed, "I'm not goin' to ask you to forgive me yet, I +can't--I'm goin' t' wait an' show you--" + +But as he paused Ravenslee's hand was upon the lad's drooping shoulder. + +"Arthur," said he, "from now on--from to-night--you are going to be my +brother more than ever--a brother we shall both be proud of--what do you +say?" + +But Spike's eyes were wet, his mouth quivered, and instead of answering +he buried his face in the pillow again. + +"Say, Hermy," he mumbled, "take him away before I do th' tear-gushin' +act! Take him down-stairs--give him a drink--light him a +cigarette--kiss him! Only take him away before I get mushy. But, +say--when I'm in bed, you'll--you'll come an'--say good night like--like +you used to, Hermy dear?" + +Swiftly she stooped and kissed that curly head. + +"I'll come--oh, I'll come, boy, dear!" she murmured, and left him with +Mrs. Trapes. + +Down-stairs the fire glowed, filling the room with shadows, and side by +side they stood looking down into the heart of the fire and were silent +awhile, and, though she was so near, he didn't touch her. + +"So it wasn't Arthur, after all!" he said at last. + +"No," she answered softly, "it wasn't Arthur--thank God!" + +"Amen!" said he, so fervently that she glanced up at him swiftly, then +looked into the fire again. Seeing how the colour deepened in her cheek, +he came a little nearer; but still he didn't touch her; instead, he took +out tobacco pouch and pipe and began to fill it with strangely clumsy +fingers, and Hermione saw that his hands were trembling. + +"Let me!" she said gently. So he surrendered pipe and pouch and, +watching, saw that her hands trembled also; when at last she had filled +the pipe, he took it and laid it on the table. + +"Aren't you going to smoke, dear?" + +"No, not now. You'll remember that Arthur also suggested you should--" + +"Give you something to drink!" she added a little breathlessly and +crossed to the cellaret in the corner. "Will you have brandy and soda?" + +"Thanks--yes--that will do," he answered absently, and when she +dutifully brought the filled glass he took it and set it down untasted +beside the pipe. + +"Why, Geoffrey!" she said in murmurous surprise, "aren't you thirsty?" + +"No, not now. You will probably remember that Arthur also suggested you +should--" + +"I know!" she breathed, "but, oh, Geoffrey, dear--wait--just a little +longer." + +"Why?" he demanded hoarsely. + +"Because!" she answered, staring down at her clasped hands. + +"Why?" + +"Because, my Geoffrey, if--if I let myself--kiss you now, I--shall never +be able to--tear myself away, and I must say good night to Arthur and--" + +She paused as a knock sounded on the door, and Mrs. Trapes appeared. + +"Why, dear land o' my fathers!" she exclaimed. "Ain't you had time t' +take off your bonnet yet, Hermy?" + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed Hermione, "I forgot it!" So saying, off it +came, and there was the curl above her eyebrow more wantonly alluring +than ever. + +"An' there's that blessed b'y," continued Mrs. Trapes, "a-layin' +up-stairs yearnin' for you, Hermy, an' him s' pale an' gentle--God bless +him! An' it now bein' exackly twenty-two an' a half minutes past 'leven +by my beautiful new watch as ticks most musical! Time as you was in +bed--both of you! an' that reminds me, Hermy, I sent your maid t' bed +like you told me, an' with my own two hands I laid out one o' them +lovely noo nightdresses--the one with the short sleeves an' lace as you +showed me last night an'--Land sakes, she's gone! Think o' that now--my, +my! Mrs. Ravenslee's wonderful quick an' light on her feet, Mr. +Geoffrey!" + +Here Mrs. Trapes raised the watch to her ear and hearkened to its tick +again, smiling at Ravenslee's broad back as he turned to reach his +glass. + +"Them nightdresses," she sighed, "as is all fluffs an' frills an' +openwork, may be all right when you're young, but for true comfort give +me--flannel, every time." + +Here Ravenslee, in the act of sipping his brandy and soda, choked; when +at last he glanced around, Mrs. Trapes was gone. + +Then he drew a chair to the fire and, sitting down, took up his pipe and +tried to light it, but Hermione's nervous white fingers had packed it +too tightly for mortal suction, whereat he sighed and, yielding to the +impossible, sat with it in his hand, lost in happy thought and waiting +for the swift light footsteps he yearned to hear. + +The clock in the hall without struck midnight, but long after the mellow +chime had died away he sat there waiting; but the great house lay very +still about him, and no sound broke the pervading quiet. Wherefore at +last he grew restless, frowned at the dying fire, and his strong fingers +clenched themselves fiercely about the pipe they still held. + +All at once he started, rose to his feet, and turned toward the door +eager-eyed, as a hand knocked softly; before he could speak it opened, +and Mrs. Trapes reappeared; she was clad in a long flannel dressing +gown, and as she paused in the shadows by the door he could vaguely +define that she still held the precious watch to her ear. + +"It do tick that musical," she said, "an' I can't sleep this night till +I've tried t' thank ye both for--for all your goodness to a lonely +woman. Ah, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess th' day as you came seekin' lodgin's at +my little flat was a good day for Ann Angelina Trapes--why, my land, Mr. +Geoffrey--ain't Hermy here?" + +"No," answered Ravenslee a little bitterly. "Oh, no, I'm quite alone--as +usual, Mrs. Trapes." + +"Why, now, that's queer!" + +"How queer?" + +"Because I've jest been into her bedroom, an' there's her things--except +that nightdress--but she--ain't!" + +"Not there? She must be! Did you look in--her bed?" + +"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey--her bed ain't been tetched!" + +"Then where in the world is she?" + +"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, consulting her watch again, "it is now exactly +fifteen and three-quarter minutes after midnight, so I guess she's in +bed somewhere. But this is a big house, an' there's lots of bedrooms, so +if I was you, I'd go an' look--till I found her--" + +Ravenslee was at the door so swiftly that Mrs. Trapes started, and she +saw his eyes were very bright, and the hands he laid on her bony +shoulders were quivering. + +"Mrs. Trapes," said he, "I will!" + +Then he stooped, very suddenly, and kissed the thin, grey hair above her +grim eyebrow, and so--was gone. + +"Find her?" mused Mrs. Trapes, glancing after him up the wide stairs. +"Why, yes, I guess he will sure find her--where she should have been +weeks ago. Lord, what a silly, beautiful, lovely thing love is!" and she +stood awhile smiling down into the fire, and her smile was very tender. + +Then she sighed, switched off the lights, and went softly away. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFINITE OBJECT*** + + +******* This file should be named 16074.txt or 16074.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/0/7/16074 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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