Part 37 (1/2)

It so happened that this particular ”Bill” was lamentably slow in picking up the English language. It was even said that he prided himself on being halfwitted. However, being an exceedingly dull creature, he was quite naturally a polite one. He was a good listener. You could speak English to him by the hour and never be annoyed by verbal interruptions.

At regular intervals he would insert a shrug of the shoulders, or nod his head, or lift an eye-brow, or spread out his hands, or purse his lips,--and he never smiled unless you did.

Perceiving that some sort of an answer was expected, ”Bill”

wisely shrugged his shoulders. ”Soapy” interpreted the shrug as affirmative,--having a distinct advantage over ”Bill,” who hadn't the faintest idea which it was,--and proceeded to go a little deeper into the matter.

”Now, as I was saying, this Landover guy is up against something, Bill.

She handed him something he didn't like. Right on the nose, too, if I'm any judge. What do you suppose it was, Bill?”

”Bill” nodded his head very earnestly.

”That's what I think,” said ”Soapy,” fixing his hearer with a moody, speculative frown. ”Now, I know something about this Landover guy that she don't know. I suppose A. A. will give me an awful panning if I up and tell her what I saw that day. He seems to think it's a secret.”

There was a slight pause, suggesting to ”Bill” that he ought to frown as if also in doubt.

”At the same time, I think she ought to be told, don't you, Bill?”

This called for something definite. So Bill scratched his left ear.

”In the first place, she's too nice a girl to be hitched up with a Priscilla like him. Now, I don't know what happened here a couple of minutes ago, but it looks to me as if she needs a little moral support.

It strikes me that this would be a good time to tell her. What do you think about it, Bill?”

Always on the lookout for rising inflections, ”Bill” was ever in a position to give prompt replies. He could dispose of the most profound questions almost before they were out of the speaker's mouth. His answer to ”Soapy's” query was a broad grin,--for he had detected a sly twinkle in the speaker's eye. He also shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands,--and, to clinch the matter, he winked.

”Now, I don't want to take this important step without being backed-up by some clever, intelligent feller like you, Bill,” went on ”Soapy.”

”It's all for her good,--and A. A.'s, too, although he won't see it in that light. If you say you think she ought to be told, that's enough for me. If you say she oughtn't,--why, nothing doing. It's up to you, Bill.”

”Bill” was plainly at sea. You can't decide a question that lacks an interrogation point. So all that ”Bill” could do was to stare blankly at ”Soapy” and wait for something tangible to turn up. Mr. Shay suddenly appreciated the poor fellow's dilemma and supplied the necessary relief.

”What say, Bill?”

Whereupon ”Bill” started to shake his head, but, catching the scowl of disapproval on ”Soapy's” brow, hastily changed his reply to a vigorous nod.

”Good!” exclaimed Mr. Shay. ”That completely clears my conscience. So long, Bill.”

And half a minute later he presented himself at Ruth Clinton's cabin.

”Goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Spofford, as she opened the door. She also opened her eyes very wide, and sent a startled, apprehensive glance over her shoulder into the warm, fire-lit interior. ”What do you want?” she demanded querulously of the unexpected visitor.

Mr. Shay took off his hat. ”I'd like a few words with Miss Clinton,” he said. ”I saw her come in, so she's not out. It's important, ma'am. She will hear something to her advantage, as they say in the personals.”

”Will you please return at three o'clock, Mr. Shay? My niece is resting after the arduous labours of the--”

”I da.s.sent wait,” said ”Soapy,” with a furtive glance over his shoulder.

”If he sees me, I'll probably have to change my mind.”

”Who is it, Auntie?” called out a clear voice from within.

”'Soapy' Shay,” replied the visitor himself.

”Mr. Landover will be here presently, Mr. Shay,--” began the obstacle in the doorway.