The Definite Object Part 69

"Where to?"

"Home."

"What! Back t' Hermy? After she turned ye out?"

"But I--I got t' go somewheres--"

"Well, you stay right here with me, Kid; I'll fix ye up all right--"

"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy. "Bud'll fix ye all right, same as I said; we'll have in another bottle when that's empty!"

"What about your sister, Kid?" demanded M'Ginnis fiercely. "What about Hermy an' this swell guy? Are y' goin' t' sit around an' do nothin'?"

"But Geoff's goin' t' marry her."

"Marry her! What, him? A millionaire marry your sister? You think so, an' she thinks so, but I know different!"

"But Hermy ain't that sort. Hermy's--good--"

"Sure, but this guy's got her fazed--she thinks he's square all right--she'll trust him an' then--s'posin' he ain't?"

"I--I ain't s'posin' nothin' like that!" said Spike, gulping his whisky.

"Well, s'posin' he's been meetin' her--in a wood--on the sly--eh?

S'posin' they been huggin' an' kissin'--"

"Say now--you cut that out--" stammered Spike, his voice thick. "I tell ye--she ain't--that kind."

"S'posin'," continued Bud, refilling the lad's gla.s.s, "s'posin' I could show 'em to ye in a wood--eh? Ah! What she want t' meet him in a wood for, anyway--nice an' quiet, eh?"

"Say now, Bud, I--I ain't goin' t' listen t' no more!" said Spike, rising and clutching at the table, "I--I'm goin' home!" And swaying on unsteady feet, he turned to the door, but M'Ginnis gripped his shoulder.

"Wait a bit, Kid."

"N-no, I'm--goin' home--see!" said Spike, setting his jaw obstinately, "I'm goin'--r-right now!"

"That's just what you ain't!" snarled M'Ginnis. "Sit down! Hermy's only a work-girl--don't forget that, Kid--an' this guy's a millionaire. I guess he thinks Hermy'll do--till he gets tired of her an'--then what?"

"He--told me he's goin' t' marry her!" said Spike slowly, speaking with an effort, "an' I guess Geoff ain't a liar. An' I wanter--go home."

"Home--after she throwed ye out? Ain't ye got no pride?"

"Aw, say, Bud," sighed Soapy, "I guess d' Kid ain't soused enough for pride yet; sling another gla.s.s int' him--that'll fix him good, I reckon."

"I ain't g-goin' t' drink no more," said Spike, resting heavy head between his hands, "I guess I'll b-beat it home, f'lers."

"Bud," suggested Soapy, "ain't it about time you rang in little Maggie on him?"

M'Ginnis whirled upon the speaker, snarling, but Soapy, having lighted another cigarette, nudged Spike with a sharp elbow.

"Kid," said he, "Bud's goin' t' remind ye of little Maggie Finlay--you remember little Maggie as drowned herself." Spike lifted a pale face and stared from the placid Soapy to scowling Bud and shrank away.

"Yes," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely, "yes--I'll never forget how she looked--pale, so pale an' still, an' th' water--runnin' out of her brown curls--I--I'll never forget--"

"Well," growled M'Ginnis, "watch out Hermy don't end th' same way."

"No!" cried Spike. "Oh, my G.o.d--no!"

"What's she meetin' this millionaire in a wood for--on the sly?"

"She don't! Hermy ain't like that."

"I tell ye she does!" cried M'Ginnis, "an' him kissin' an' squeezin' her an'--n.o.body by--"

"It's a lie, Bud--she--she wouldn't!"

"S'posin' I could show ye? S'pose you see him there--waitin' for her--"

"If--if he means any harm t' Hermy, I--I'll kill him!"

"Aw--you wouldn't have the nerve, Kid!"

"I'd shoot him dead--by G.o.d, I would!"

"You ain't man enough, Kid."

"You g-give me a gun an' see. I'd shoot any one t' save my sister from--th' river. Oh, my G.o.d--I--I'd die for her, an' she don't love me no more!" And leaning his head upon his arms, Spike burst into a pa.s.sion of tears. M'Ginnis watched him awhile, then, filling the boy's gla.s.s, clapped him on the shoulder and held it to his lips.

"Neck this, Kid," said he, "neck it all--so, that's good, ain't it?

To-morrow evenin' I'll take ye where they meet; maybe you'll ketch him waitin' for her--but instead of Hermy an' kisses there'll be you an' me, hey? Will ye come?"

"S-sure I will if--you'll gimme--your gun."

"Pshaw, Kid--what's a kid like you want with a gun?"

"T'shoot him--"

"Eh? What? D'ye mean--?"

"If he's after my sister, I'll--kill him! I will, by G.o.d, I will!"

"'S right," nodded Soapy, staring into the boy's drawn face, "'s right, Bud; if ever I see a killer--th' Kid's sure it!"

Slowly the glare died out of Spike's eyes, his body drooped, and sighing, he pillowed his heavy head upon the table and fell into a drunken slumber. For a while the two men sat there hearkening to his stertorous breathing, then Soapy laughed soft and mirthlessly. "You sure got th' Kid all worked up an' mad enough t'--kill, eh, Bud? If he does get up against this guy Geoff--this guy Geoff's sure goin' t' cash in--sudden. Consequently, I guess you'll be wantin' paper an'

pencil--both here!"

"What th' h.e.l.l--" began M'Ginnis.

"Telegram, Bud. You're goin' t' frame up a nice little telegram t' this guy Geoff--oh, you sure are th' fly gazebo! A nice little message--'meet me t'morrow in the wood at sunset--Hermy?' Somethin' nice 'n' romantic like that'll bring him on th' run--eh, Bud? Then, 'stead of Hermy, comes you an' th' Kid, eh, Bud? An' 'stead of kisses, this guy Geoff gets a lead pill--eh, Bud? Th' Kid can't miss if you get him close enough. It sure is some scheme, Bud; I couldn't have thought it out better myself.