the drums of jeopardy-第27节

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〃A　fiddle？　　I　don't　know　a　thing　about　'em　except　that　they　sound
good。〃　　Cutty　pulled　at　his　chin。

〃Whatever　it　costs　I'll　reimburse　you　the　day　I'm　up。〃

〃All　right。　　I'll　bring　you　a　bundle　of　them；　and　you　can　do　your
own　selecting。〃

Out　in　the　corridor　the　nurse　said：　〃I　couldn't　hold　him。　　But　he'll
be　easier　now　that　he's　got　the　questions　off　his　mind。　　He　will
have　to　be　humoured　a　lot。　　That's　one　of　the　characteristics　of
head　wounds。〃

〃What　do　you　think　of　him？〃

〃He　seems　to　be　gentle　and　patient；　and　I　imagine　he's　hard　to　resist
when　he　wants　anything。　　Winning；　you'd　call　it。　　I　suppose　I　mustn't
ask　who　he　really　is？〃

〃No。　　Poor　devil。　　The　fewer　that　know；　the　better。　　I'll　be　home
round　three。〃

Once　in　the　street；　Cutty　was　besieged　suddenly　with　the　irresistible
desire　to　mingle　with　the　crowd　over　in　the　Avenue；　to　hear　the
military　bands；　the　shouts；　to　witness　the　gamut　of　emotions　which
he　knew　would　attend　this　epochal　day。　　Of　course　he　would　view　it
all　from　the　aloof　vantage　of　the　historian；　and　store　away
commentaries　against　future　needs。

And　what　a　crowd　it　was！　　He　was　elbowed　and　pushed；　jostled　and
trod　on；　carried　into　the　surges；　relegated　to　the　eddies；　and　always
the　metallic　taptap　of　steel…shod　boots　on　the　asphalt；　the　bayonets
throwing　back　the　radiant　sunshine　in　sharp；　clear　flashes。　　The
keen；　joyous　faces　of　those　boys。　　God；　to　be　young　like　that！　　To
have　come　through　that　hell　on　earth　with　the　ability　still　to　smile！
Cutty　felt　the　tears　running　down　his　cheeks。　　Instinctively　he　knew
that　this　was　to　be　his　last　thrill　of　this　order。　　He　was　fifty…two。

〃Quit　your　crowding　there！〃　barked　a　voice　under　his　chin。

〃Sorry；　but　it's　those　behind　me；〃　said　Cutty；　looking　down　into　a
florid　countenance　with　a　raggedy　gray　moustache　and　a　pair　of　blue
eyes　that　were　blinking。

〃I'm　so　damned　short　I　can't　see　anything！〃

〃Neither　can　I。〃

〃You　could　if　you　wiped　your　eyes。〃

〃You're　crying　yourself；〃　declared　Cutty。

〃Blinking　jackass！　　Got　anybody　out　there？〃

〃All　of　'em。〃

〃I　get　you；　old　son　of　a　gun！　　No　flesh　and　blood；　but　they're　ours
all　the　same。　　Couple　of　old　fools；　huh？〃

〃Sure　pop！　　What　right　have　two　old　codgers　got　here；　anyhow？　　What
brought　you　out？〃

〃What　brought　you？〃

〃Same　thing。〃

〃Damn　it！　　If　I　could　only　see　something！〃

Cutty　put　his　hands　upon　the　shoulders　of　this　chance　acquaintance
and　propelled　him　toward　the　curb。　　There　were　cries　of　protest；
curses；　catcalls；　but　Cutty　bored　on　ahead　until　he　got　his　man　where
he　could　see　the　tin　hats；　the　bayonets；　and　the　colours；　and　thus
they　stood　for　a　full　hour。　　Each　time　the　flag　went　by　the　little
man　yanked　off　his　derby　and　turned　truculently　to　see　that　Cutty
did　the　same。

〃Say；〃　he　said　as　they　finally　dropped　back；　〃I'd　offer　to　buy　a
drink；　only　it　sounds　flat。〃

〃And　it　would　taste　flat　after　a　mighty　wine　like　this；〃　replied
Cutty。　　〃Maybe　you've　heard　of　the　nectar　of　the　gods。　　Well；　you've
just　drunk　it；　my　friend。〃

〃I　sure　have。　　Those　kids　out　there；　smiling　after　all　that　hell；
and　you　and　me　on　the　sidewalk；　blubbering　over　'em！　　What's　the
answer？　　We're　Americans！〃

〃You　said　it。　　Good…bye。〃

Cutty　pressed　on　to　the　flow　and　went　along　with　it；　lighter　in　the
heart　than　he　had　been　in　many　a　day。　　These　two　million　who　lined
Fifth　Avenue；　who　cheered；　laughed；　wept；　went　silent；　cheered　again；
what　did　their　presence　here　signify？　　That　America's　day　had　come；
that　as　a　people　they　were　homogeneous　at　last；　that　that　which　laws
had　failed　to　bring　forth　had　been　accomplished　by　an　ideal。

Bolshevism；　socialism　…　call　it　what　you　will　…　would　beat　itself
into　fragments　against　this　Rock　of　Democracy；　which　went　down　to
the　centre　of　the　world　and　whose　pinnacle　touched　the　stars。
Reincarnation；　the　simple　ideals　of　the　forefathers　restored。　　And
with　this　knowledge　tingling　in　his　thoughts　…　and　perhaps　there
was　a　bit　of　spring　in　his　heart　…　Cutty　continued　on；　without
destination；　chin　jutting；　eyes　shining。　　He　was　an　American！

He　might　have　continued　on　indefinitely　had　he　not　seen　obliquely
a　window　filled　with　musical　instruments。

Hawksley's　fiddle！　　He　had　all　but　forgotten。　　All　right。　　If　the
poor　beggar　wanted　to　scrape　a　fiddle；　scrape　it　he　should。　　The
least　he；　Cutty；　could　do　would　be　to　accede　to　any　and　every　whim
Hawksley　expressed。　　Wasn't　he　planning　to　rob　the　beggar　of　the
drums；　happen　they　ever　turned　up？　　But　how　the　deuce　to　pick　out
a　fiddle　which　would　have　a　tune　in　it？　　Of　all　the　hypercritical
duffers　the　fiddler　was　the　worst。　　Beside　a　fiddler　of　the　first
rank　the　rich　old　maid　with　the　poodle　was　a　hail　fellow　well　met。

Of　course　Gregor　had　taught　the　chap。　　That　meant　he　would　know
instantly；　just　as　his　host　would　instantly　observe　the　difference
between　green　glass　and　green　beryl。

Cutty　turned　into　the　shop；　infinitely　amused。　　Fiddles！　　What　next？
Having　constituted　a　guardianship　over　Kitty；　he　was　now　playing
impressario　to　Hawksley。　　As　if　he　hadn't　enough　parts　to　play！
Wouldn't　he　be　risking　his　life　to…night　trying　to　find　where　Stefani
Gregor　was？　　Fiddles！　　Fiddles　and　emeralds！　　What　a　choice　old
hypocrite　he　was！

Fate　has　a　way　of　telling　you　all　about　it　…　afterward；　conceivably；
that　humanity　might　continue　to　reproduce　its　species。　　Otherwise
humanity　would　proceed　to　extinguish　itself　forthwith。　　Thus；　Cutty
was　totally　unaware　upon　entering　the　shop　that　he　was　about　to　tear
off　its　hinges　the　door　he　was　so　carefully　bolting　and　latching　and
padlocking　between　Kitty　Conover　and　this　duffer　who　wanted　to　fiddle
his　way　through　convalescence。

Where　there　is　fiddling　there　is　generally　dancing。　　If　it　be　not　the
feet；　then　it　will　be　the　soul。



CHAPTER　XVIII


There　are　some　men　who　know　a　little　about　all　things　and　a　great
deal　about　many。　　Such　a　man　was　Cutty。　　But　as　he　approached　the
counter　behind　which　stood　an　expectant　clerk　he　felt　for　once　that
he　was　in　a　far　country。　　There　were　fiddles　and　fiddles；　just　as
there　were　emeralds　and　emeralds。　　Never　again　would　he　laugh　over
the　story　of　the　man　who　thought　Botticelli　was　a　manufacturer　of
spool　thread。　　He　attacked　the　problem；　however；　like　the
thoroughbred　he　was　…　frankly。

〃I　want　to　buy　a　violin；〃　he　began；　knowing　that　in　polite　musical
circles　the　word　fiddle　was　taboo。　　〃I　know　absolutely　nothing　at
all　about　quality　or　price。　　Understand；　though；　while　you　might　be
able　to　fool　me；　you　wouldn't　fool　the　man　I'm　buying　it　for。　　Now
what　would　you　suggest？〃

The　clerk　…　a　salesman　familiar　with　certain　urban　types；　thinly
including　the　Fifth　Avenue；　which　came　in　for　talking…machine
records　…　recognized　in　this　well…dressed；　attractive　elderly　man
that　which　he　designated　the　swell。　　Hateful　word；　yes；　but　having
a　perfectly　legitimate　niche；　since　in　the　minds　of　the　hoi　polloi
it　nicely　describes　the　differences　between　the　poor　gentleman　and
the　gentleman　of　leisure。　　To　proceed　with　the　digression；　to　no　one
is　the　word　more　hateful　than　to　the　individual　to　whom　it　is
applied。　　Cutty　would　have　blushed　at　the　clerk's　thought。

〃Perhaps　I'd　better　get　the　proprietor；〃　was　the　clerk's　suggestion。

〃Good　idea；〃　Cutty　agreed。　　〃Take　my　card　along　with　you。〃　　This　was
a　Fifth　Avenue　shop；　and　Cutty　knew　there　would　be　a　Who's　Who　or　a
Bradstreet　somewhere　about。

In　the　interim　he　inspected　the　case…lined　walls。　　Trombones。　　He
chuckled。　　Lucky　that　Hawksley's　talent　didn't　extend　in　this
direction。　　True；　he　himself　collected　drums；　but　he　did　not　play
them。　　Something　odd　about　music；　human　beings　had　to　have　it；　the
very　lowest　in　the　scale。　　A　universal　magic。　　He　was　himself　very
fond　of　good　music；　but　these　days　he　fought　shy　of　it；　it　had　the
faculty　of　sweeping　him　back　into　the　twenties　and　reincarnating
vanished　dreams。

After　a　certain　length　of　time；　from　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　saw
the　clerk　returning　with　the　proprietor；　the　latter　wearing　an
amiable　smile；　which　probably　connoted　a　delving　into　the　aforesaid
volumes　of　attainment　and　worth。　　Cutty　hoped　this　was　so；　as　it
would　obviate　the　necessity　of　going　into　details　as　to　who　he　was
and　what　he　had。

〃Your　name　is　familiar　to　me；〃　began　the　proprietor。　　〃You　collect
antique　drums。　　My　clerk　tells　me　that　you　wish　to　purchase　a　good
violin。〃

〃Very　good。　　I　have　in　my　apartment　rather　a　distinguished　guest
who　plays　the　violin　for　his　own　amusement。　　He　is　ill　and　cannot
select　for　himself。　　Now　I　know　a　little　about　music　but　nothing
about　violins。〃

〃I　suggest　that　I　personally　carry　half　a　dozen　instruments　to　your
apartment　and　let　your　guest　try　them。　　How　much　is　he　willing　to
pay？〃

〃Top　price；　I　should　say。　　Shall　I　make　a　deposit？〃

〃If　you　don't　mind。　　Merely　precautionary。　　Half　a　dozen　violins
will　represent　quite　a　sum　of　money；　and　taxicabs　are　unreliable
animals。　　A　thousand　against　accidents。　　What　time　shall　I　call？〃
The　proprietor's　curiosity　was　stirred。　　Musical　celebrities；　as　he
had　occasion　to　know；　were　always　popping　up　in　queer　places。　　Some
new　star　proba