Part 25 (1/2)
”There's just one other thing that I meant to tell you,” he said; ”something that perhaps you know already. I'm pretty busy and I don't always find time to read the local news. So it's not unusual that I didn't know before. Steve Armstrong is back.”
Quietly the girl arose also, stood so very still.
”Yes,” she said. ”He's been back a week. He's working in the big drug-store on the corner, Shaw's place, in the laboratory.”
”That's all, then. I thought perhaps you didn't know.”
For an instant the girl was silent; she looked her companion full in the face.
”He called the afternoon he came. He was almost--pitiable. Father came home finally.”
”Elice!”
Their eyes held. Not three feet separate they stood there; but neither stirred.
”Mr. Roberts.”
In silence the man put on top-coat and gloves; not hastily, nor yet lingeringly. Equally naturally he picked up his hat.
”December the sixth,” he said. ”One whole year. To-morrow will be the seventh--and business--battle, again.” For the first time he dallied, the big soft felt hat turning absently in his hand. ”Somehow I'd hoped a lot for the sixth, planned a lot--and now it's past.” His eyes s.h.i.+fted, fastened elsewhere compellingly.
”It is all past, all over, gone into history, isn't it, Elice?”
”Yes, it's past, Mr. Roberts.”
”Not even 'past, Darley,' not even that--yet?”
The brown eyes dropped. They had fought their fight and won--for December the sixth.
”No. Not even that--yet,” she said.
CHAPTER II
ACQUAINTANCE
At the corner next beyond the Gleason home Darley Roberts caught the nine o'clock car, and remained on it until the end of the division, practically the extreme opposite edge of the town, was reached. He was the last pa.s.senger to leave, and as the motorman was reversing the trolley he paused a moment in the vestibule.
”Normal load was it, Johnson?” he asked the conductor. ”You rang up twenty-four fares, I noticed.”
The man looked consciously surprised to be called by name.
”Yes, Mr. Roberts,” he said; ”we carry anywhere between twenty and thirty at this time of night.”
”How about the next trip, nine-thirty?”
”Better yet if anything.”
”And the next, the last?”