Part 15 (1/2)

”Nonsense!” said Thornton gruffly. ”You'll do nothing of the kind.”

”Yes, Robert, I will,” declared Mrs. Thornton with determination. She leaned forward and called to the Flopper. ”Mr. Coogan,” she said anxiously, ”if you can't find any other way of getting out there, I want you to take this chair of mine--you'll be able to manage with it, I am sure.”

The Flopper looked at her with grat.i.tude--but shook his head--mindful of Doc Madison.

”T'anks, mum,” he said, ”but I couldn't t'ink of it--you needs it more'n me.”

”Please do,” she insisted.

”T'anks, mum,” said the Flopper again, ”but I couldn't. You needs it, an' I can get along widout it. Dey're stallin' on me, but I can get dere by myself if any one'll show me de way.”

”I'll show you, mister,” piped a shrill voice--and young Holmes on his crutch hopped into the circle. ”I'll show you, mister--an' 'tain't fur, neither.”

”Swipe me!” muttered the Flopper, as he surveyed the lad. ”Dis is de limit fer fair!” Perturbed and uncertain what to do, he tried to catch Doc Madison's eye again, but a movement in the crowd had hidden Madison.

Some one in the crowd, the lingerie drummer, getting the grim humor of the situation, laughed--and the laugh came like a challenge, taunting the quick-tempered, turbulent soul of the Flopper.

”Come on, mister!” urged the boy excitedly. ”'Tain't fur--I'll show you.”

”G.o.d bless you, son,” said the Flopper, while he flung an inward curse at the man who had laughed. ”Son, G.o.d bless you fer yer good heart--go ahead--I'll stick to you.”

The crowd opened, making a lane through which the boy stumped on his crutch, his face flushed and eager, and through which the Flopper followed, slowly, rocking from side to side as he helped himself along with the palm of his left hand flat in the dust of the road, trailing his wobbling leg behind him.

The crowd closed in behind and moved forward.

Mrs. Thornton's face was fever-flushed, her eyes bright; in her weak state she was on the verge of nervous hysteria.

”I want to go, Robert,” she cried. ”I must go.”

”But, my dear,” protested Thornton harshly, ”this is simply the height of absurdity. For Heaven's sake be sensible, Naida. Just imagine what people would say if they saw us here with this outfit of idiots--they'd think we'd gone mad.”

”I don't care what they'd think,” she returned feverishly, her frail fingers plucking nervously at the arms of her chair. ”I must go--I must--I must.”

Thornton glanced at the nurse, then stared at his wife--Miss Harvey's meaning look was hardly necessary to drive home to him the fact that Mrs. Thornton was in no condition to be denied anything.

Red-faced, Thornton strode to the back of the chair and began to push it along.

”Of all the d.a.m.ned foolishness that ever I heard of,” he gritted savagely, ”this is the worst!” His face went redder still with mortification. ”If this ever leaks out I'll never hear the last of it.

Look at us--bringing up the rear of a gibbering mob of yokels! We're fit for a padded cell!”

In the crowd, Madison rubbed shoulders for a moment with Pale Face Harry.

”Who's the party with the wheel-chair behind?” he asked.

”Millionaire--Chicago--private car--Flopper's got the wife going hard--rode down with them,” coughed Pale Face Harry behind his hand.

”I guess I'll get acquainted,” said Madison. ”Circulate, Harry, and cough your head off--don't hide your light under a bushel--circulate.”

And Madison fell back to sc.r.a.pe acquaintance with the man of millions.