Part 18 (1/2)
”I don't see why you dunno him,” parried Racey (it was a weak parry, but the best he could encompa.s.s at the moment). ”I thought you knowed him. Somebody told me you did. My mistake. No harm done. Have a drink, Luke.”
”Who told you I knowed this here now Jack Harpe?” probed Luke Tweezy, when he had smacked his lips over a second drink.
”I don't remember now,” evaded Racey Dawson. ”What does it matter?”
”It don't matter,” was the answer--the miffed answer it seemed to Racey. ”It don't matter a-tall. Have one on me, boys. Don't be afraid to fill 'em up. They's plenty more on the back shelf when this one's empty.”
They filled and drank, filled and drank. Swing thought that he had never seen Racey overtaken by liquor so quickly. In no time he was telling Luke Tweezy the most intimate details of his private life.
Swing knew that these details were a string of lies. But Luke Tweezy could not know that. He put an affectionate hand on Racey's shoulder and begged for more. He got it.
When Racey ran down and reverted to the bottle, Luke Tweezy generously purchased a second and invited him and his friend to a vacant table in the corner of the room. It was an amazing sight. Luke Tweezy the money-lender, the man who was supposed to still possess the first dollar he ever earned, had actually bought three eighths of one bottle of whiskey and the whole of another.
Racey Dawson greatly desired to laugh. But he didn't dare. He was too busy being drunk and getting drunker. Swing Tunstall, slow in the uptake as usual, perceived nothing beyond the fact that Luke Tweezy had suddenly become a careless spendthrift till halfway down the second bottle when Luke said:
”Sh.o.r.e is funny how you thought I knowed this Jack Harpe.”
”Yuh-yeah,” a.s.sented Racey, and overset a gla.s.s in such a way that four fingers of raw liquor splashed into Luke Tweezy's lap. ”S'funny all right--an' that's fuf-funnier,” he added as Luke and his chair sc.r.a.ped backward to avoid the drip. ”D'I wet yuh all up, Lul-luke?
Mum-my min-mis-take. I'm makin' lul-lots of mistakes to-day.”
Luke Tweezy twisted his leathery features into his best smile. ”It don't matter,” he told Racey. ”Not a-tall. I--uh--who was it told you I knowed this Jack Harpe?”
”Dud-don't remember,” denied Racey.
”Think,” urged Luke Tweezy.
”Am thu-thinkin',” Racey said, crossly. ”What you wanna know for?”
”I don't like to have folks talkin' so loose and free about me,” was the Tweezy explanation.
”Duh-hic-quite right,” hiccuped Racey Dawson. ”An' you are, too, y'old catawampus. You a friend o' mim-mine, Lul-luke?”
”Sh.o.r.e,” said Luke, with an eye out for another upset gla.s.s.
”Then lend me huh-hundred dollars, Lul-Luke.”
”Lend you a hundred dollars! On what security?”
”My wuh-word,” Racey strove to say with dignity. ”Ain't that enough?”
”Sh.o.r.e, but--but I ain't got a hundred dollars with me to-day.”
”Bub-but you can gug-get it,” Racey insisted, weaving his head from side to side in a snake-like manner.
”We-ell, I dunno. You see, Racey--”
”I nun-need the money,” interrupted Racey. ”I'm broke--bub-broke bad. Swing's broke, too. That's too bad--I mean that's two bub-boke brad--whistle twice for the crossing--I mean--Aw, h.e.l.l, I know whu-what I mean if-fif you don't. You lul-lend me that mum-money, Lul-Luke, like a good feller.”
Luke Tweezy shook a regretful head. ”I'm sh.o.r.e sorry you and Swing are busted, Racey, I'd do anything for you I could in reason. You know damwell I would, but money's tight with me just now. I ain't really got a cent I can lend. Got a mortgage comin' due next month, but that ain't now, of course.”
”Of course not. Huh-how could you think it was now? Huh-how could you, Lul-Luke? Dud-do you know the child ain't a year old yet?”
”Child? What child?” Luke Tweezy began to look alarmed.