Part 13 (1/2)

Pete a.s.serted at once that he never was very much interested in the girl. The woman interrupted him, laughing.

”Oh, it's not of the slightest consequence to me, my dear young man.

You needn't draw maps for my benefit. Why should I be concerned about it?”

But Pete continued with his explanations. If he was laughed at for his tastes in women, he felt obliged to say that they were only temporary or indifferent ones.

The morning after Maggie had departed from home, Pete stood behind the bar. He was immaculate in white jacket and ap.r.o.n and his hair was plastered over his brow with infinite correctness. No customers were in the place. Pete was twisting his napkined fist slowly in a beer gla.s.s, softly whistling to himself and occasionally holding the object of his attention between his eyes and a few weak beams of sunlight that had found their way over the thick screens and into the shaded room.

With lingering thoughts of the woman of brilliance and audacity, the bartender raised his head and stared through the varying cracks between the swaying bamboo doors. Suddenly the whistling pucker faded from his lips. He saw Maggie walking slowly past. He gave a great start, fearing for the previously-mentioned eminent respectability of the place.

He threw a swift, nervous glance about him, all at once feeling guilty.

No one was in the room.

He went hastily over to the side door. Opening it and looking out, he perceived Maggie standing, as if undecided, on the corner. She was searching the place with her eyes.

As she turned her face toward him Pete beckoned to her hurriedly, intent upon returning with speed to a position behind the bar and to the atmosphere of respectability upon which the proprietor insisted.

Maggie came to him, the anxious look disappearing from her face and a smile wreathing her lips.

”Oh, Pete--,” she began brightly.

The bartender made a violent gesture of impatience.

”Oh, my Gawd,” cried he, vehemently. ”What deh h.e.l.l do yeh wanna hang aroun' here fer? Do yeh wanna git me inteh trouble?” he demanded with an air of injury.

Astonishment swept over the girl's features. ”Why, Pete! yehs tol'

me--”

Pete glanced profound irritation. His countenance reddened with the anger of a man whose respectability is being threatened.

”Say, yehs makes me tired. See? What deh h.e.l.l deh yeh wanna tag aroun' atter me fer? Yeh'll git me inteh trouble wid deh ol' man an'

dey'll be h.e.l.l teh pay! If he sees a woman roun' here he'll go crazy an' I'll lose me job! See? Yer brudder come in here an' raised h.e.l.l an' deh ol' man hada put up fer it! An' now I'm done! See? I'm done.”

The girl's eyes stared into his face. ”Pete, don't yeh remem--”

”Oh, h.e.l.l,” interrupted Pete, antic.i.p.ating.

The girl seemed to have a struggle with herself. She was apparently bewildered and could not find speech. Finally she asked in a low voice: ”But where kin I go?”

The question exasperated Pete beyond the powers of endurance. It was a direct attempt to give him some responsibility in a matter that did not concern him. In his indignation he volunteered information.

”Oh, go teh h.e.l.l,” cried he. He slammed the door furiously and returned, with an air of relief, to his respectability.

Maggie went away.

She wandered aimlessly for several blocks. She stopped once and asked aloud a question of herself: ”Who?”