the fortune hunter(闯世界的人)-第8节
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Mr。 Feuerstein had just enough knowledge to enable him to play upon
this weakness； this universal human susceptibility to the poison of
pretense。 All doubt of success fled his mind； and he was free to indulge
his vanity and his contempt for these simple； unpretending people。 ‘‘So
vulgar！'' he said to himself； as he left their house that nighthe who knew
how to do nothing of use or value。 ‘‘It is a great condescension for me。
Working peopleugh！''
As he strolled up town he was spending in fancy the income from at
least two； perhaps all three； flat…houses‘‘The shop's enough for the old
people and that dumb ass of a brother。 I'll elevate the family。 Yes； I
think I'll run away with Hilda to…morrowthat's the safest plan。''
Otto had guessed close to the truth about Feuerstein's affairs。 They
were in a desperate tangle。 He had been discharged from the stock
company on Saturday night。 He was worthless as an actor； and had the
hostility of the management and of his associates。 His landlady had got
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THE FORTUNE HUNTER
the news promptly from a boarder who paid in part by acting as a sort of
mercantile agency for her in watching her very uncertain boarders。 She
had given him a week's notice； and had so arranged matters that if he fled
he could not take his meager baggage。 He was down to eighty…five cents
of a borrowed dollar。 He owed money everywhere in sums ranging from
five dollars to twenty…five cents。 The most of these debts were in the
form of half…dollar borrowings。 He had begun his New York career with
loans of ‘‘five dollars until ThursdayI'm a little pressed。'' Soon it
became impossible for him to get more than a dollar at a time even from
the women； except an occasional windfall through a weak or ignorant new
acquaintance。 He clung tenaciously to the fifty…cent basisto go lower
would cheapen him。 But for the last two weeks his regular levies had
been of twenty…five cents； with not a few descents to ten and even five
cents。
He reached Goerwitz's at ten o'clock and promenaded slowly through
both rooms twice。 Just as he was leaving he espied an acquaintance who
was looking fiercely away from him as if saying： ‘‘I don't see you； and；
damn you； don't you dare see me！'' But Feuerstein advanced boldly。
Twelve years of active membership in that band of ‘‘beats'' which patrols
every highway and byway and private way of civilization had thickened
and toughened his skin into a hide。 ‘‘Good evening； Albers；'' he said
cordially； with a wave of the soft； light hat。 ‘‘I see you have a vacant
place in your little circle。 Thank you！'' He assumed that Albers had
invited him； took a chair from another table and seated himself。 Social
courage is one of the rarest forms of courage。 Albers grew red but did
not dare insult such a fine…looking fellow who seemed so hearty and
friendly。 He surlily introduced Feuerstein to his friendstwo women and
two men。 Feuerstein ordered a round of beer with the air of a prince and
without the slightest intention of paying for it。
The young woman of the party was seated next to him。 Even before
he sat he recognized her as the daughter of Ganser； a rich brewer of the
upper East Side。 He had placed himself deliberately beside her； and he
at once began advances。 She showed at a glance that she was a silly； vain
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THE FORTUNE HUNTER
girl。 Her face was fat and dull； she had thin； stringy hair。 She was
flabby and； in the lazy life to which the Gansers' wealth and the silly
customs of prosperous people condemned her； was already beginning to
expand in the places where she could least afford it。
He made amorous eyes at her。 He laughed enthusiastically at her
foolish speeches。 He addressed his pompous platitudes exclusively to
her。 Within an hour he pressed her hand under the table and sighed
dramatically。 When she looked at him he started and rolled his great eyes
dreamily away。 Never before had she received attentions that were not of
the frankest and crudest practical nature。 She was all in a flutter at
having thus unexpectedly come upon appreciation of the beauties and
merits her mirror told her she possessed。 When Mrs。 Schoenberg； her
aunt； rose to go； she gave Feuerstein a chance to say in a low aside： ‘‘My
queen！ To…morrow at elevenat Bloomingdale's。'' Her blush and smile
told him she would be there。
All left except Feuerstein and a youth he had been watching out of the
corner of his eyesyoung Dippel； son of the rich drug…store man。
Feuerstein saw that Dippel was on the verge of collapse from too much
drink。 As he still had his eighty…five cents； he pressed Dippel to drink
and； by paying； induced him to add four glasses of beer to his already top…
heavy burden。
‘‘Mus' go home；'' said Dippel at last； rising abruptly。
Feuerstein walked with him； taking his arm to steady him。 ‘‘Let's
have one more；'' he said； drawing him into a saloon； gently pushing him to
a seat at a table and ordering whisky。 After the third large drink； Dippel
became helpless and maudlin and began to overflow with generous
sentiments。 ‘‘I love you； Finkelstern； ol' man；'' he declared tearfully。
‘‘They say you're a dead beat； but wha' d'I care ？''
‘‘Finkelstern；'' affecting drunkenness； shed tears on Dippel's shoulder；
denied that he was a ‘‘beat'' and swore that he loved Dippel like a brother。
‘‘You're my frien'；'' he said。 ‘‘I know you'd trust me to any amount。''
Dippel took from his trousers pocket a roll of bills several inches thick。
Feuerstein thrilled and his eyes grew eloquent as he noted tens and
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twenties and at least one fifty。 Slowly； and with exaggerated care； Dippel
drew off a ten。 ‘‘There y'are； ol' dead beat；'' he said。 ‘‘I'll stake you a
ten。 Lots more where that came fromsoda…fountain counter's reg'lar
gol' mine。''
In taking off the ten； he dropped a twenty。 It fluttered to the floor and
the soldier of fortune； the scorner of toil and toilers； slid his foot over it as
swiftly and naturally as a true aristocrat always covers an opportunity to
get something somebody else has earned。 He put the ten in his pocket；
when Dippel's eyes closed he stooped and retrieved the twenty with
stealthand skill。 When the twenty was hidden； and the small but typical
operation in high finance was complete； he shook Dippel。 ‘‘I say； old
man；'' he said； ‘‘hadn't you better let me keep your money for you？ I'm
afraid you'll lose it。''
Dippel slowly unclosed one eye and gave him a look of glassy cunning。
He again drew the roll from his pocket； and； clasping it tightly in his fist；
waved it under Feuerstein's nose。 As he did it； he vented a drunken
chuckle。 ‘‘Soda fountain's gol' mine； Fishenspiel；'' he said thickly。 ‘‘No；
you don't！ I can watch my own roll。'' He winked and chuckled。
‘‘Sorry to disappoint you； Fishy；'' he went on； with a leer。 Then he
took off another ten and handed it to Feuerstein。 ‘‘Good fel'； Fishy；'' he
mumbled； ‘‘'f y' are a dead beat。''
Feuerstein added the ten to the thirty and ordered more whisky。
Dippel tried to doze； but he would not permit it。 ‘‘He mustn't sleep any
of it off；'' he thought。
When the whisky came Dippel shook himself together and started up。
‘‘G'…night；'' he said； trying to stand； look and talk straight。 ‘‘Don't f'rget；
y'owe me ten dollarsesno； t
