Part 23 (1/2)
”Fine, I hear,” answered Jacob, rising in his chair, and turning around with his back to Peter.
”That's a funny piece of business on Jarney's part,” said Peter, puffing very hard at his pipe.
”His daughter took a fancy to her, on seeing her one day while slumming on the South Side, and she's trying to make a lady of her,” said Jacob, sitting down again, after throwing away the stump of a cigar.
”Can she do it?” asked Peter, with considerable interest.
”She's doing it,” responded Jacob, who noticed the change of Peter's interest, which was now of the kindly kind.
”G.o.d bless her!” exclaimed Peter, as he turned again to his ever present peephole expression.
”Mike Barton's dead,” said Jacob, slowly.
”The devil!” shouted Peter, turning from his peephole.
”Yes; didn't you hear of it?”
”No. How?”
”Automobile accident.”
”There are others to take his place,” said Peter, grunting like a satisfied pig after eating heartily. ”How did it happen?”
”Stole Jarney's auto, with the two young ladies in it; run it like h---- to the country, to kidnap them, I suppose; ran into a telegraph pole--busted the machine, and busted his head.”
”Poor wretch! I am glad he is gone, for his sister's sake,” said Peter, sighing, which he could do sometimes.
”Ah, I see you are very compa.s.sionate for the girl all at once,” said Jacob, eyeing Peter.
”I have reasons to be,” replied Peter, spiritedly. ”Were the girls hurt?”
”No; but Edith Jarney is very ill--.”
”Very ill! What?” interrupted Peter.
”Brain fever, she's got.”
”Ah, she is too good to live,” said Peter, looking out his peephole again. Then turning quickly, with his peculiar little eyes turned up sidewise at Jacob, he said: ”Say, Jacob, we must put our sleuths on the trail of that old drunkard, Billy Barton. He has been gone a long time, and not a single word from him.”
”What do you want with the sot?” asked Jacob, mystified. ”He's no good.”
”That's my business--poor Billy,” and Peter lapsed into a moody spell, for sometimes he seemed to have a little of the feelings of a natural heart; but this quality in him was as rare as the air on Pike's Peak.
”His family must be cared for.”
”Jarney's doing that,” answered Jacob.
”Is he?” jerked out Peter, wrathfully. ”I'll not allow it from him, the interloper!”