It was not often that Ann found occasion to rejoice at thepresence in her uncle's house of the six geniuses whom Mrs. Petthad installed therein. As a rule, she disliked them individuallyand collectively. But to-day their company was extraordinarilywelcome to her. They might have their faults, but at least theirpresence tended to keep the conversation general and prevent itbecoming a duologue between Lord Wisbeach and Jimmy on thesubject of old times. She was still feeling weak from thereaction consequent upon the slackening of the tension of heremotions on seeing Lord Wisbeach greet Jimmy as an oldacquaintance. She had never hoped that that barrier would besurmounted. She had pictured Lord Wisbeach drawing back with apuzzled frown on his face and an astonished "But this is notJimmy Crocker." The strain had left her relieved, but in no moodfor conversation, and she replied absently to the remarks ofHoward Bemis, the poet, who sat on her left. She looked round thetable. Willie Partridge was talking to Mrs. Pett about thedifference between picric acid and trinitrotoluene, than which apleasanter topic for the luncheon table could hardly be selected,and the voice of Clarence Renshaw rose above all other competingnoises, as he spoke of the functions of the trochaic spondee.
There was nothing outwardly to distinguish this meal from anyother which she had shared of late in that house.
The only thing that prevented her relief being unmixed was thefact that she could see Lord Wisbeach casting furtive glances atJimmy, who was eating with the quiet concentration of one who,after days of boarding-house fare, finds himself in the presenceof the masterpieces of a chef. In the past few days Jimmy hadconsumed too much hash to worry now about anything like a furtiveglance. He had perceived Lord Wisbeach's roving eye, and had nodoubt that at the conclusion of the meal he would find occasionfor a little chat. Meanwhile, however, his duty was towards histissues and their restoration. He helped himself liberally from adish which his father offered him.
He became aware that Mrs. Pett was addressing him.
"I beg your pardon?""Quite like old times," said Mrs. Pett genially. Her suspicionshad vanished completely since Lord Wisbeach's recognition of thevisitor, and remorse that she should have suspected him made herunwontedly amiable. "Being with Skinner again," she explained.
"It must remind you of London."Jimmy caught his father's expressionless eye.
"Skinner's," he said handsomely, "is a character one cannot helpbut respect. His nature expands before one like some beautifulflower."The dish rocked in Mr. Crocker's hand, but his face remainedimpassive.
"There is no vice in Skinner," proceeded Jimmy. "His heart is theheart of a little child."Mrs. Pett looked at this paragon of the virtues in rather astartled way. She had an uncomfortable feeling that she was beinglaughed at. She began to dislike Jimmy again.
"For many years Skinner has been a father to me," said Jimmy.
"Who ran to help me when I fell, And would some pretty storytell, Or kiss the place to make it well? Skinner."For all her suspense, Ann could not help warming towards anaccomplice who carried off an unnerving situation with such aflourish. She had always regarded herself with a fair degree ofcomplacency as possessed of no mean stock of courage andresource, but she could not have spoken then without betrayingher anxiety. She thought highly of Jimmy, but all the same shecould not help wishing that he would not make himself quite soconspicuous. Perhaps--the thought chilled her--perhaps he wascreating quite a new Jimmy Crocker, a character which would causeSkinner and Lord Wisbeach to doubt the evidence of their eyes andbegin to suspect the truth. She wished she could warn him tosimmer down, but the table was a large one and he and she were atopposite ends of it.
Jimmy, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying himself. He felt thathe was being the little ray of sunshine about the home and makinga good impression. He was completely happy. He liked the food, heliked seeing his father buttle, and he liked these amazing freakswho were, it appeared, fellow-inmates with him of this highlydesirable residence. He wished that old Mr. Pett could have beenpresent. He had conceived a great affection for Mr. Pett, andregistered a mental resolve to lose no time in weaning him fromhis distressing habit of allowing the office to interfere withhis pleasures. He was planning a little trip to the Polo Grounds,in which Mr. Pett, his father, and a number of pop bottles wereto be his companions, when his reverie was interrupted by asudden cessation of the buzz of talk. He looked up from hisplate, to find the entire company regarding Willie Partridgeopen-mouthed. Willie, with gleaming eyes, was gazing at a smalltest-tube which he had produced from his pocket and placed besidehis plate.
"I have enough in this test-tube," said Willie airily, "to blowhalf New York to bits."The silence was broken by a crash in the background. Mr. Crockerhad dropped a chafing-dish.
"If I were to drop this little tube like that," said Willie,using the occurrence as a topical illustration, "we shouldn't behere.""Don't drop it," advised Jimmy. "What is it?""Partridgite!"Mrs. Pett had risen from the table, with blanched face.
"Willie, how can you bring that stuff here? What are you thinkingof?"Willie smiles a patronising smile.
"There is not the slightest danger, aunt Nesta. It cannot explodewithout concussion. I have been carrying it about with me all themorning."He bestowed on the test-tube the look a fond parent might givehis favourite child. Mrs. Pett was not reassured.
"Go and put it in your uncle's safe at once. Put it away.""I haven't the combination.""Call your uncle up at once at the office and ask him.""Very well. If you wish it, aunt Nesta. But there is no danger.""Don't take that thing with you," screamed Mrs. Pett, as he rose.
"You might drop it. Come back for it.""Very well."Conversation flagged after Willie's departure. The presence ofthe test-tube seemed to act on the spirits of the company afterthe fashion of the corpse at the Egyptian banquet. Howard Bemis,who was sitting next to it, edged away imperceptibly till henearly crowded Ann off her chair. Presently Willie returned. Hepicked up the test-tube, put it in his pocket with a certainjauntiness, and left the room again.
"Now, if you hear a sudden bang and find yourself disappearingthrough the roof," said Jimmy, "that will be it."Willie returned and took his place at the table again. But thespirit had gone out of the gathering. The voice of ClarenceRenshaw was hushed, and Howard Bemis spoke no more of theinfluence of Edgar Lee Masters on modern literature. Mrs. Pettleft the room, followed by Ann. The geniuses drifted away one byone. Jimmy, having lighted a cigarette and finished his coffee,perceived that he was alone with his old friend, Lord Wisbeach,and that his old friend Lord Wisbeach was about to becomeconfidential.
The fair-haired young man opened the proceedings by going to thedoor and looking out. This done, he returned to his seat andgazed fixedly at Jimmy.
"What's your game?" he asked.
Jimmy returned his gaze blandly.
"My game?" he said. "What do you mean?""Can the coy stuff," urged his lordship brusquely. "Talk senseand talk it quick. We may be interrupted at any moment. What'syour game? What are you here for?"Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
"I am a prodigal nephew returned to the fold.""Oh, quit your kidding. Are you one of Potter's lot?""Who is Potter?""You know who Potter is.""On the contrary. My life has never been brightened by so much asa sight of Potter.""Is that true?""Absolutely.""Are you working on your own, then?""I am not working at all at present. There is some talk of mylearning to be an Asparagus Adjuster by mail later on.""You make me sick," said Lord Wisbeach. "Where's the sense oftrying to pull this line of talk. Why not put your cards on thetable? We've both got in here on the same lay, and there's no usefighting and balling the thing up.""Do you wish me to understand," said Jimmy, "that you are not myold friend, Lord Wisbeach?""No. And you're not my old friend, Jimmy Crocker.""What makes you think that?""If you had been, would you have pretended to recognise meupstairs just now? I tell you, pal, I was all in for a second,till you gave me the high sign."Jimmy laughed.
"It would have been awkward for you if I really had been JimmyCrocker, wouldn't it?""And it would have been awkward for you if I had really been LordWisbeach.""Who are you, by the way?""The boys call me Gentleman Jack.""Why?" asked Jimmy, surprised.
Lord Wisbeach ignored the question.
"I'm working with Burke's lot just now. Say, let's be sensibleabout this. I'll be straight with you, straight as a string.""Did you say string or spring?""And I'll expect you to be straight with me.""Are we to breathe confidences into each other's ears?"Lord Wisbeach went to the door again and submitted the passage toa second examination.
"You seem nervous," said Jimmy.
"I don't like that butler. He's up to something.""Do you think he's one of Potter's lot?""Shouldn't wonder. He isn't on the level, anyway, or why did hepretend to recognise you as Jimmy Crocker?""Recognition of me as Jimmy Crocker seems to be the acid test ofhonesty.""He was in a tight place, same as I was," said Lord Wisbeach. "Hecouldn't know that you weren't really Jimmy Crocker until you puthim wise--same as you did me--by pretending to know him." Helooked at Jimmy with grudging admiration. "You'd got your nervewith you, pal, coming in here like this. You were taking bigchances. You couldn't have known you wouldn't run up against someone who really knew Jimmy Crocker. What would you have done ifthis butler guy had really been on the level?""The risks of the profession!""When I think of the work I had to put in," said Lord Wisbeach,"it makes me tired to think of some one else just walking in hereas you did.""What made you choose Lord Wisbeach as your alias?""I knew that I could get away with it. I came over on the boatwith him, and I knew he was travelling round the world and wasn'tgoing to stay more than a day in New York. Even then I had to gosome to get into this place. Burke told me to get hold of oldChester and get a letter of introduction from him. And here youcome along and just stroll in and tell them you have come tostay!" He brooded for a moment on the injustice of things.
"Well, what are you going to do about it, Pal?""About what?""About us both being here? Are you going to be sensible and workin with me and divvy up later on, or are you going to riskspoiling everything by trying to hog the whole thing? I'll besquare with you. It isn't as if there was any use in trying tobluff each other. We're both here for the same thing. You want toget hold of that powder stuff, that Partridgite, and so do I.""You believe in Partridgite, then?""Oh, can it," said Lord Wisbeach disgustedly. "What's the use?
Of course I believe in it. Burke's had his eye on the thing for ayear. You've heard of Dwight Partridge, haven't you? Well, thisguy's his son. Every one knows that Dwight Partridge was workingon an explosive when he died, and here's his son comes along witha test-tube full of stuff which he says could blow this city tobits. What's the answer? The boy's been working on the old man'sdope. From what I've seen of him, I guess there wasn't much moreto be done on it, or he wouldn't have done it. He's pretty welldead from the neck up, as far as I can see. But that doesn'talter the fact that he's got the stuff and that you and I havegot to get together and make a deal. If we don't, I'm not sayingyou mightn't gum my game, just as I might gum yours; but where'sthe sense in that? It only means taking extra chances. Whereas ifwe sit in together, there's enough in it for both of us. You knowas well as I do that there's a dozen markets which'll bid againsteach other for stuff like that Partridgite. If you're worryingabout Burke giving you a square deal, forget it. I'll fix Burke.
He'll treat you nice, all right."Jimmy ground the butt of his cigarette against his plate.
"I'm no orator, as Brutus is; but, as you know me all, a plain,blunt man. And, speaking in the capacity of a plain, blunt man, Irise to reply--Nothing doing.""What? You won't come in?"Jimmy shook his head.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Wizzy, if I may still call youthat, but your offer fails to attract. I will not get together orsit in or anything else. On the contrary, I am about to go toMrs. Pett and inform her that there is a snake in her Eden.""You're not going to squeal on me?""At the top of my voice."Lord Wisbeach laughed unpleasantly.
"Yes, you will," he said. "How are you going to explain why yourecognised me as an old pal before lunch if I'm a crook afterlunch. You can't give me away without giving yourself away. IfI'm not Lord Wisbeach, then you're not Jimmy Crocker."Jimmy sighed. "I get you. Life is very complex, isn't it?"Lord Wisbeach rose.
"You'd better think it over, son," he said. "You aren't going toget anywhere by acting like a fool. You can't stop me going afterthis stuff, and if you won't come in and go fifty-fifty, you'llfind yourself left. I'll beat you to it."He left the room, and Jimmy, lighting a fresh cigarette,addressed himself to the contemplation of this new complicationin his affairs. It was quite true what Gentleman Jack or Joe orwhatever the "boys" called him had said. To denounce him meantdenouncing himself. Jimmy smoked thoughtfully. Not for the firsttime he wished that his record during the past few years had beenof a snowier character. He began to appreciate what must havebeen the feelings of Dr. Jekyll under the handicap of hisdisreputable second self, Mr. Hyde.
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