options-第29节

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June。　　I　will　have　　no　knight　in　armor　slaying　his　rival　or　killing　dragons　for　me。　　You　　please　me　very　well；　Tommy。〃

I　stooped　and　kissed　her。　　Then　a　moisture　broke　out　on　my　forehead；　　and　I　began　to　feel　weak。　　I　saw　the　red　stains　vanish　from　Chloe's　　apron；　and　the　head　of　Louis　Devoe　turn　to　a　brown；　dried　cocoanut。

〃There　will　be　cocoanut…pudding　for　dinner；　Tommy；　boy；〃　said　Chloe；　　gayly；　〃and　you　must　come。　　I　must　go　in　for　a　little　while。〃

She　vanished　in　a　delightful　flutter。

Dr。　　Stamford　tramped　up　hurriedly。　　He　seized　my　pulse　as　though　it　　were　his　own　property　that　I　had　escaped　with。

〃You　are　the　biggest　fool　outside　of　any　asylum！〃　he　said；　angrily。　　　〃Why　did　you　leave　your　bed？　　And　the　idiotic　things　you've　been　　doing！and　no　wonder；　with　your　pulse　going　like　a　sledge…hammer。〃

〃Name　some　of　them；〃　said　I。

〃Devoe　sent　for　me；〃　said　Stamford。　　〃He　saw　you　from　his　window　go　to　　old　Campos'　store；　chase　him　up　the　hill　with　his　own　yardstick；　and　　then　come　back　and　make　off　with　his　biggest　cocoanut。〃

〃It's　the　little　things　that　count；　after　all；〃　said　I。

〃It's　your　little　bed　that　counts　with　you　just　now；〃　said　the　doctor。　　　〃You　come　with　me　at　once；　or　I'll　throw　up　the　case。　　'You're　as　　loony　as　a　loon。〃

So　I　got　no　cocoanut…pudding　that　evening；　but　I　conceived　a　distrust　　as　to　the　value　of　the　method　of　the　head…hunters。　　Perhaps　for　many　　centuries　the　maidens　of　the　villages　may　have　been　looking　wistfully　　at　the　heads　in　the　baskets　at　the　doorways；　longing　for　other　and　　lesser　trophies。




NO　STORY



To　avoid　having　this　book　hurled　into　corner　of　the　room　by　the　　suspicious　reader；　I　will　assert　in　time　that　this　is　not　a　newspaper　　story。　　You　will　encounter　no　shirt…sleeved；　omniscient　city　editor；　　no　prodigy　〃cub〃　reporter　just　off　the　farm；　no　scoop；　no　storyno　　anything。

But　if　you　will　concede　me　the　setting　of　the　first　scene　in　the　　reporters'　room　of　the　Morning　Beacon；　I　will　repay　the　favor　by　　keeping　strictly　my　promises　set　forth　above。

I　was　doing　space…work　on　the　Beacon；　hoping　to　be　put　on　a　salary。　　　Some　one　had　cleared　with　a　rake　or　a　shovel　a　small　space　for　me　at　　the　end　of　a　long　table　piled　high　with　exchanges；　Congressional　　Records；　and　old　files。　　There　I　did　my　work。　　I　wrote　whatever　the　　city　whispered　or　roared　or　chuckled　to　me　on　my　diligent　wanderings　　about　its　streets。　　My　income　was　not　regular。

One　day　Tripp　came　in　and　leaned　on　my　table。　　Tripp　was　something　in　　the　mechanical　departmentI　think　he　had　something　to　do　with　the　　pictures；　for　he　smelled　of　photographers'　supplies；　and　his　hands　　were　always　stained　and　cut　up　with　acids。　　He　was　about　twenty…five　　and　looked　forty。　　Half　of　his　face　was　covered　with　short；　curly　red　

whiskers　that　looked　like　a　door…mat　with　the　〃welcome〃　left　off。　　He　　was　pale　and　unhealthy　and　miserable　and　fawning；　and　an　assiduous　　borrower　of　sums　ranging　from　twenty…five　cents　to　a　dollar。　　One　　dollar　was　his　limit。　　He　knew　the　extent　of　his　credit　as　well　as　the　　Chemical　National　Bank　knows　the　amount　of　H20　that　collateral　will　　show　on　analysis。　　When　he　sat　on　my　table　he　held　one　hand　with　the　　other　to　keep　both　from　shaking。　　Whiskey。　　He　had　a　spurious　air　of　　lightness　and　bravado　about　him　that　deceived　no　one；　but　was　useful　　in　his　borrowing　because　it　was　so　pitifully　and　perceptibly　assumed。

This　day　I　had　coaxed　from　the　cashier　five　shining　silver　dollars　as　　a　grumbling　advance　on　a　story　that　the　Sunday　editor　had　reluctantly　　accepted。　　So　if　I　was　not　feeling　at　peace　with　the　world；　at　least　　an　armistice　had　been　declared；　and　I　was　beginning　with　ardor　to　　write　a　description　of　the　Brooklyn　Bridge　by　moonlight。

〃Well；　Tripp；〃　said　I；　looking　up　at　him　rather　impatiently；　〃how　goes　　it？〃　　He　was　looking　to…day　more　miserable；　more　cringing　and　haggard　　and　downtrodden　than　I　had　ever　seen　him。　　He　was　at　that　stage　of　　misery　where　he　drew　your　pity　so　fully　that　you　longed　to　kick　him。

〃Have　you　got　a　dollar？〃　asked　Tripp；　with　his　most　fawning　look　and　　his　dog…like　eyes　that　blinked　in　the　narrow　space　between　his　high…　growing　matted　beard　and　his　low…growing　matted　hair。

〃I　have；〃　said　I；　and　again　I　said；　〃I　have；〃　more　loudly　and　　inhospitably；　〃and　four　besides。　　And　I　had　hard　work　corkscrewing　　them　out　of　old　Atkinson；　I　can　tell　you。　　And　I　drew　them；〃　I　　continued；　〃to　meet　a　wanta　hiatusa　demanda　needan　exigencya　　requirement　of　exactly　five　dollars。〃

I　was　driven　to　emphasis　by　the　premonition　that　I　was　to　lose　one　of　　the　dollars　on　the　spot。

〃I　don't　want　to　borrow　any；〃　said　Tripp；　and　I　breathed　again。　　〃I　　thought　you'd　like　to　get　put　onto　a　good　story；〃　he　went　on。　　〃I've　　got　a　rattling　fine　one　for　you。　　You　ought　to　make　it　run　a　column　at　　least。　　It'll　make　a　dandy　if　you　work　it　up　right。　　It'll　probably　　cost　you　a　dollar　or　two　to　get　the　stuff。　　I　don't　want　anything　out　　of　it　myself。〃

I　became　placated。　　The　proposition　showed　that　Tripp　appreciated　past　　favors；　although　he　did　not　return　them。　　If　he　had　been　wise　enough　　to　strike　me　for　a　quarter　then　he　would　have　got　it。

〃What　is　the　story　？〃　I　asked；　poising　my　pencil　with　a　finely　　calculated　editorial　air。

〃I'll　tell　you；〃　said　Tripp。　　〃It's　a　girl。　　A　beauty。　　One　of　the　　howlingest　Amsden's　Junes　you　ever　saw。　　Rosebuds　covered　with　dew…　violets　in　their　mossy　bedand　truck　like　that。　　She's　lived　on　Long　　Island　twenty　years　and　never　saw　New　York　City　before。　　I　ran　against　　her　on　Thirty…fourth　Street。　　She'd　just　got　in　on　the　East　River　　ferry。　　I　tell　you；　she's　a　beauty　that　would　take　the　hydrogen　out　of　　all　the　peroxides　in　the　world。　　She　stopped　me　on　the　street　and　　asked　me　where　she　could　find　George　Brown。　　Asked　me　where　she　could　　find　George　Brown　in　New　York　City！　　What　do　you　think　of　that？

〃I　talked　to　her；　and　found　that　she　was　going　to　marry　a　young　farmer　　named　DoddHiram　Doddnext　week。　　But　it　seems　that　George　Brown　　still　holds　the　championship　in　her　youthful　fancy。　　George　had　　greased　his　cowhide　boots　some　years　ago；　and　came　to　the　city　to　make　　his　fortune。　　But　he　forgot　to　remember　to　show　up　again　at　Greenburg；　　and　Hiram　got　in　as　second…best　choice。　　But　when　it　comes　to　the　　scratch　Adaher　name's　Ada　Lowerysaddles　a　nag　and　rides　eight　　miles　to　the　railroad　station　and　catches　the　6。45　A。M。　　train　for　the　　city。　　Looking　for　George；　you　knowyou　understand　about　women　George　wasn't　there；　so　she　wanted　him。

〃Well；　you　know；　I　couldn't　leave　her　loose　in　Wolftown…on…the…Hudson。　　　I　suppose　she　thought　the　first　person　she　inquired　of　would　say：　　'George　Brown　？why；　yeslemme　seehe's　a　short　man　with　light…blue　　eyes；　ain't　he？　　Oh　yesyou'll　find　George　on　One　Hundred　and　Twenty…　fifth　Street；　right　next　to　the　grocery。　　He's　bill…clerk　in　a　saddle…　and…harness　store。'　　That's　about　how　innocent　and　beautiful　she　is。　　　You　know　those　little　Long　Island　water…front　villages　like　Greenburg…　…a　couple　of　duck…farms　for　sport；　and　clams　and　about　nine　summer　　visitors　for　industries。　　That's　the　kind　of　a　place　she　comes　from。　　　But；　sayyou　ought　to　see　her！

〃What　could　I　do？　I　don't　know　what　money　looks　like　in　the　morning。　　　And　she'd　paid　her　last　cent　of　pocket…money　for　her　railroad　ticket　　except　a　quarter；　which　she　had　squandered　on　gum…drops。　　She　was　　eating　them　out　of　a　paper　bag。　　I　took　her　to　a　boarding…house　on　　Thirty…second　Street　where　I　used　to　live；　and　hocked　her。　　She's　in　　soak　for　a　dollar。　　That's　old　Mother　McGinnis'　price　per　day。　　I'll　　show　you　the　house。〃

〃What　words　are　these；　Tripp？〃　said　I。　　〃I　thought　you　said　you　had　a　　story。　　Every　ferryboat　that　crosses　the　East　River　brings　or　takes　　away　girls　from　Long　Island。〃

The　premature　lines　on　Tripp's　face　grew　deeper。　　He　frowned　seriously　　from　his　tangle　of　hair。　　He　separated　his　hands　and　emphasized　his　　answer　with　one　shaking　forefinger。

〃Can't　you　see；〃　he　said；　〃what　a　rattling　fine　story　it　would　make？　　　You　could　do　it　fine。　　All　about　the　romance；　you　know；　and　describe　　the　girl；　and　put　a　lot　of　stuff　in　it　about　true　love；　and　sling　in　a　　few　stickfuls　of　funny　businessjoshing　the　Long　Islanders　about　　being　green；　and；　wellyou　know　how　to　do　it。　　You　ought　to　get　　fifteen　dollars　out　of　it；　anyhow。　　And　it'll。　　cost　you　only　about　　four　dollars。　　You'll　make　a　clear　profit　of　eleven。〃

〃How　will　it　cost　me　four　dollars？〃　I　asked；　suspiciously。

〃One　dollar　to　Mrs。　　McGinnis；〃　Tripp　answered；　promptly；　〃and　two　　dollars　to　pay　the　girl's　fare　back　home。〃

〃And　the　fourth　dimension？〃　I　inquired；　making　a　rapid　mental　　calculation。

〃One　dollar　to　me；〃　said　Tripp。　　〃For　whiskey。　　Are　you　on？〃

I　smiled　enigmatically　and　spread　my　elbows　as　if　to　begin　writing　　again。　　But　this　grim；　abject；　specious；　subservient；　burr…like　wreck　　of　a　man　would　not　be　shaken　off。　　His　forehead　suddenly　became　　shiningly　moist。

〃Don't　you　see；〃　he　said；　with　a　sort　of　desperate　calmness；　〃that　　this　girl　has　got　to　be　sent　home　to…daynot　to…night　nor　to…morrow；　　but　to…day？　　I　can't　do　anything　for　her。　　You　know；　I'm　the　janitor　　and　corresponding　secretary　of　the　Down…and…Out