Part 8 (2/2)
Hiram thought a long time, looking out the window. In the midst of this Tweet resumed his paper.
The sensible thing to do was for Hiram to sacrifice love to the friends.h.i.+p that promised him a start, in order to gain love back more conclusively in the end. Yes, he loved her--he loved her madly!
Boiling the present situation right down to facts, he had little confidence in Tweet's boasted powers. He could not reconcile Tweet's present impecunious condition with his hints of past affluence. But he liked him instinctively, which, after all, is more human and satisfactory than liking a person after a.n.a.lyzing him and weighing his good qualities against his shortcomings. So it was the thought of Tweet's friends.h.i.+p which finally prompted him to say: ”I guess I'll go with you.”
”Good!” Tweet dropped his paper. ”This afternoon?”
”No--to-morrow.”
”Not on your life! This afternoon.”
”Well, I'll tell you in an hour or so. Now--now it's about noon. You wait here a little, while I go down in the street. Then I'll come back, and we'll go eat.”
Tweet looked at him long and steadily. ”Got a date with Lucy, eh?” he said at last.
”Ye-yes--I saw her at the fire this morning. She said she wanted to see me when she went off watch at noon--I'll be right back--probably.”
Tweet frowned, then laughed. ”Go ahead, Hooker,” he relented testily; ”go ahead. Got a date with her, eh? I thought maybe you'd just go down there and gape at her through the window. Go to it--but don't forget!”
Hiram hurried out.
Again his feet seemed palsied as he neared the restaurant. Was he to suffer such pangs of stage fright always when about to meet her?
He had not long to dwell on the query. Before he knew it he was face to face with her. She had been looking in the jeweler's window while she waited for him, and had turned as he came abreast.
She was smiling. ”You're a minute late,” she scolded, pointing to the jeweler's bra.s.s clock.
”Yes, ma'am--I was kept.”
”Oh, don't look so serious. A minute's nothing.”
”No, ma'am--not much.”
Silence claimed them for a time.
”Well, what'll we do?” she finally asked a little petulantly, and turned her back on him to look into the window.
”I dunno,” he began; then a sudden wild idea struck him. He had seen along the curbs automobiles bearing signs which read ”For Hire--Four Dollars an Hour.” It was worth it, if only to break this humiliating situation. ”We might take a little spin in a machine,” he finished with a tottery tone of indifference.
”Oh, I'd like that,” she said instantly. ”But I gotta dress. We'll get a car and ride 'round to where I room.”
They walked to the corner, where was a taxi stand. Hiram engaged a car by the hour, and they entered. She directed the driver to her rooming house, and they were off.
The car presently drew up to the curb, and the driver swung the door open for his pa.s.sengers. Into a dark, musty little parlor the girl led Hiram of the b.u.t.terfly life.
”Sit down,” she invited; ”and excuse me a minute.”
She went back into the hall, and Hiram heard the tattoo of her feet on the stairs.
<script>