Part 22 (2/2)

to say beer, or maybe somethin' stronger, didn't yuh? But I don't drink no hard stuff. No. An' I was dyin' for a drink o' somethin' when yuh pops out that door. An' I know yuh ain't any hinge.”

”How do you know I ain't a hinge?”

”Oh, don't I? Leave it to me to pick a sport from a piker.”

”But I'm no sport either.”

”You could if yuh wanted ter. An' yuh ain't any hinge, even if they do say you're a square-head. Come on an' let's go in back an' have a couple o' bottles o' ginger ale in Hen's place.”

And Jan followed her into the private room beyond the pool-room--the room to which, as he had gathered before this, the street girls of that section steered drunken sailors. The ginger ale was brought in by the proprietor himself. Jan threw down a ten-dollar bill. Jan had a good many bills with him that evening--his month's wages; and seeing it was the fas.h.i.+on round there to show your money when you paid for anything, why, he'd show them--even if he was a square-head--that he could carry a wad too.

”Say, cap, but yuh must be drawin' down good coin?”

”Oh, a boss s.h.i.+p-carpenter gets pretty good wages.” And with one splendid sweep Jan emptied his gla.s.s.

”I should say yes. An' there's tinhorners round here that if they had half your wad Hen'd have to ring in the fire alarm to put 'em out--they'd feel themselves such warm rags. But what d'yuh say to another ginger ale?”

”Sure,” said Jan, and called aloud for them. And again Hen brought in the ginger ale in two long gla.s.ses, but also with two empty bottles to show Jan by the labels that it was the real imported and no phony stuff; and Jan said, ”I know! I know!” as he paid and waved Hen away.

A door led from this back room into the lower back hall of the house, and in the shadow of the back hall Jan thought for an instant that he saw the landlady's figure; but he wasn't sure. Two minutes--or it may have been five minutes--later, a boy whom Jan had noticed round the house came into the room by way of that same door and said to the girl:

”Mrs. Goles wants to see you a minute.”

”Tell her I got no minute to spare--not now.”

The boy went out and quickly came back.

”Mrs. Goles says for you to come out and see her or she'll have the policeman in off the beat. He's at the corner now.”

The girl went out.

”Who's Mrs. Goles?” asked Jan of the boy.

”Why, she's the landlady.”

”Oh!” said Jan. So that was her husband, the handsome proprietor with the evil eyes. ”Poor woman!” muttered Jan, and absent-mindedly drank his ginger ale.

The boy was still there. ”Where is Mrs. Goles now?” asked Jan.

The boy jerked his head. ”Out there on the back stairs.”

Jan stood up. ”Here!” He handed the boy a quarter. ”A wonder a boy like you hangs out round here!”

”I run Mrs. Goles's errands. I been runnin' 'em since I was a kid. My mother used to work for her mother. She was a lady.”

Jan was heading for the side door, the door which led into the alley.

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