All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A THIEVES’ COMEDY. 7 clared quietly in reply to my exclama- tion. “ He did me a service once in Paris and we exchanged cards. When- ever I am in London I look him up. This time he told me about you, and—” “The deuce he did!” I exclaimed, and wished Sysonsby were within arm's length of me. “* Dinna swear. No man ever got anywhere of consequence by the use 0° profane language, and there’s one of those smoke-room fools who's been drinking more than his head can stand, glowerin’ at us like a sheep.” As I turned my head the “ smoke- room fool” in question lurched across the deck toward the rail and hung over it limply. I moved with the intention of helping him to a chair, but again Campbell stayed me with a finger. “Mind your own business. The man’s all right, and that’s the deck- steward’s work. But.I like the spirit o' charity in ye. ‘That’s no’ a Didder- ington trait. Sysonsby said ye were a good sort, and mebbe you’re no’ so saft as ye look.” His great hand suddenly seized my arm, crushing my biceps till I almost yelped. “Um—it might be worse,” he ad- mitted, while I looked somewhat blank- ly at him and felt his proprietary atti- tude creeping over me. “ Who—who the dickens are you: IT asked at last desperately. “ And what did Sysonsby tell you? You talk as if you'd known me all my life, and I’ve nev er set eyes on you betore. I know you're Scotch, of course—” “And there ye’re wrang,” he inter- rupted softly, and continuing, his voice instantly altered, without a trace of Scotch in it: “I am an American of New York, five generations removed from Aberfoyle, where my forefathers were kings of men. I was bern a stone's throw from Fifth Avenue, and was educated at Harvard. ‘“My father’s name was one to con- jure with in Wall Street, and mine has been coupled in rumor with almost every débutante that has been thrown 9) 127 upon the Four Hundred’s matrimonial market since I slipped into my father’s shoes. ‘I have been invited to run for a seat in Congress, and the Mayor of New York has several times declared that I was one of the city’s most dis- tinguished citizens.” :\ chuckle of enjoyment came from the depths of his great chest. “These are my credentials, and I’ve given you the name of a friend of us both—and maybe you’ve heard of a man named Rollins? ” Heard of him? Good Heaven — the man owned me! “ Yes—yes—do you know the beg- gar?” I admitted and asked hurriedly. “There’s young Van Huysen being carried off to his bed.’’ Campbell de- clared with most irritating irrelevancy, referring to the smoke-room fool wha was led toward the companionway by the deck-steward. “He'll be twenty-one next March, and will burn enough money any day of his life thereafter to keep ten able- bodied, useful humans for a year. The Lord didn’t mean that to happen when the world was first thought of!” ‘‘ No—no—of course not,” I agreed at once. “ But this Rollins chap—" “Ts a nasty man to look to for sym- pathy,’ Campbell interrupted absent- ly, watching the voung man vanish down the companion. ‘‘ He wastes it all on that young skate I’ve been telling you about—young Van Huysen is his nephew, you know. Rollins’s daugh- ter and he are engaged to be married —next year.” For some unearthly reason I was disappointed. Campbell looked dreamily out across the water, and for a moment or two there was silence. ‘Rollins has made money, and he keeps it,’ he continued in a low tone, still looking straight ahead. ‘ That man would not give ten cents to a Sal- vation Army Christmas dinner. But he will—he will!” He turned toward me quickly. comilicloooks.com