The Ne'er-Do-Well Part 39

"Good heavens!" said Anthony. "How did you find out?"

"A bundle of New York papers--they came to-day."

"Where did they catch him?"

"They haven't caught him. He has disappeared completely--that's the strangest part of it. Your detective didn't die, after all."

"He recovered, did he? I'm mighty glad of that."

"Yes, but you aren't out of the woods yet. I can't understand why the police haven't discovered your whereabouts. You left New York openly under the name of Locke--"

"Perhaps it was so easy they overlooked it." He smiled ruefully.

I'd hate to be arrested just now when I'm getting to be such a good conductor."

"Don't worry about that until the time comes. I'll get you the papers later." She showed no immediate intention of rising, however, but sat regarding her visitor with slightly heightened color. He began to feel embarra.s.sed. It seemed to be his fate to receive benefits at this woman's hand, whether he willed it or not.

He got to his feet with an effort, and said, looking down upon her:

"I must go now; but first I want to make you feel how grateful I am for your kindness and for your continued trust in me. I haven't deserved it, I know, but--" He turned as if to leave, but faced her again as he heard her p.r.o.nounce his name. He was surprised to see that there were tears in her eyes.

"Kirk," she said, "you're an awfully good sort, and I can't stay angry with you. Do you know you've made it rather hard for me staying away all this time?"

"I thought you never wanted to see me again."

"You shouldn't take so seriously what a woman says under such circ.u.mstances. It's embarra.s.sing. It makes things seem worse than they are." She hesitated, as if to emphasize the difficulty of such candor.

Kirk said, gently:

"Does that mean that we can forget all about it and be good friends again? Does it mean that you'll forgive me?"

"I can't quite promise that," she answered. "But there is no need of your avoiding me; and it's absurd for you to feel as you do, that you can't accept any little services from me that might help you in your work. I'm still interested in your success."

"You're tremendously good," he answered, really touched. "I can't say anything, except that I'll try to be worthy of your kindness."

She gave him a half-distressed look, then smiled brightly.

"We won't talk of it any more," she said--"ever. Now do sit down and tell me what you have been doing all this time. How have you been getting along with your work?"

"All right, except one morning when I overslept."

"Overslept? Oh, Kirk!" she said, reproachfully.

"You see, I never got up so early before, except to go duck- hunting, and this is different. Did you ever try rising at five- thirty--in the morning, I mean? You've no idea how it feels. Why, it's hardly light! You can't see to brush your teeth! I suggested to Runnels that we send No. 2 out at eight-thirty instead of six- thirty--that's early enough for anybody--but he didn't seem to take kindly to the thought."

"What did he say when you reported?"

"I didn't consider it proper to listen to all he said, so I retired gracefully. From what I did hear, however, I gathered that he was vaguely offended at something. I tried to explain that I had been out late, but it didn't go."

Edith laughed. "Perhaps I'd better telephone him."

"Oh no, you needn't do that."

"But surely you were called in time?"

"Please don't. That's the first thing Runnels yodelled at me when I showed up. He's a nice fellow, but he's too serious; he lets little things bother him. He'll cool off eventually."

Time pa.s.sed quickly in such an interchange of pleasant trivialities, and, although Kirk felt that he was making an unconscionably long call, he could not well leave while his hostess seemed bent on detaining him. It was late when he said good-night, and, after returning to his quarters, with characteristic perversity he proceeded to sit up, smoking cigarette after cigarette, while he tried to set his thoughts in order. He was grateful to Mrs. Cortlandt, and immensely pleased to learn that the man injured in the affair in New York had not died.

But something must be done about Chiquita. That was the important thing now. He wrestled with the problem for a long time in vain.

He was afraid to go to bed for fear of oversleeping again, and decided to stay up until train-time. But at length drowsiness overcame him, and for the few remaining hours he dreamed lonesomely of an oval face and big, black, velvet eyes.

He did not really miss his rest until the next afternoon, when the heat and the monotonous rumble of the train, together with its restful swaying, sent him off into a delicious doze, from which he was awakened by a brakeman barely in time to escape discovery.

Thereafter he maintained more regular habits, and while no one but the luxury-loving youth himself knew what effort it required to cut short his slumbers in their sweetest part, he never missed his train, and in time the early hours ceased to be a hards.h.i.+p.

In the days that followed he tried his very best to make good.

Every evening he had to himself he spent in search of the Spanish girl. Aside from his inability to find her, and an occasional moment of misgiving at the thought of Frank Wellar, alias Jefferson Locke, Kirk had but one worry, and that was caused by Allan. Never a day pa.s.sed that the wors.h.i.+pful black boy did not fairly hound him with his attentions; never a nightly journey down into the city that Allan did not either accompany him or, failing permission to do so, follow him at a safe distance. For a time Anthony rebelled at this espionage, but the constant effort of refusal grew tiresome after a while, especially as the Jamaican did just as he pleased anyhow, and Kirk ended by letting him have his way. But this was not all. Allan insisted upon accompanying his friend upon his daily runs back and forth across the Isthmus.

At first he succeeded in slipping past the gateman in some miraculous manner, and, once aboard the train, behaved as if free from all further responsibility. He made it plain, in fact, that he was Anthony's guest and boon companion, and considered the exchange of money quite unnecessary, if not even insulting. Day after day Kirk argued with him, even threatening to throw him off; but Allan ignored the arguments with bland good-nature and looked upon the threats as the display of an excruciating sense of humor.

He continued to visit and to gossip on terms of the closest intimacy, and began, moreover, to exercise a certain proprietary right over Kirk, following him through the train to see that no harm befell him, and seizing the slightest opportunity to engage him in conversation.

Anthony explained time after time that there were probably spotters on the run, and that this conduct was sure, sooner or later, to get them both into trouble. To all of which Allan listened attentively and agreed with all earnestness. But the next morning invariably found him back again with some excuse.

"I can't h'explain it, chief," he acknowledged, on one occasion.

"Every day swear I to cease, but it is of no h'avail. Ever you been in love with a female, sar?"

"What has that to do with it?"

"It is much the same. I can't h'allow you to leave me. I would die and kill myself, but--"

"Rats!"

"Yes, sar. It is very h'annoying, is it not?"

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"Oh, MON!"

"I'm going to speak to the boss, if you don't let up. I don't want to get fired."

"Never mind you, for these h'engagements. I will work for you."

Becoming really concerned lest he should be accused of withholding fares, Kirk did speak to Runnels, explaining fully, whereupon a watch was set, with the result that on the very next morning Allan was chased out of the railroad yards by an unfeeling man with a club. Failing for a second time to evade the watchful eyes of the gateman, he ranged back and forth beyond the iron fence like a captive animal, raising his voice to heaven in weird complaint. He was waiting when the train pulled in that evening, glued to the iron bars, his eyes showing as white in the gloom as his expansive grin of welcome.

For several days this procedure was repeated with variations, until the dreadful threat of arrest put an end to it. Allan had conceived a wholesome respect for Spiggoty police, and for a few days thereafter Kirk was rid of him. Then one morning he reappeared as usual in one of the forward coaches.

"How the deuce did you make it?" asked Anthony.

Allan proudly, triumphantly, displayed a ticket, exclaiming:

"It is of no h'avail to prevent me, boss!"